


Come Meet My Enemies

by IShipIt32



Series: Over a cup of Coffee [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, Minor Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 19:45:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 45,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14552154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IShipIt32/pseuds/IShipIt32
Summary: When Jaime Lannister started dating Brienne of Tarth, he knew that she had baggage but now that things are changing, will he be able to handle all the things in her past that turned her in who she is?





	1. The Martell Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody, here's the first chapter to what followed after That's My Spot, if you haven't read that and don't feel like reading it, the story line is pretty simple: Brienne is a writer, she stole Jaime's favorite table, things happened, hate turned into friendship and now they are dating. 
> 
> I was going to stick to my somewhat regular schedule and post this tomorrow morning but I don't know if I'll have access to my computer until later that day... Anyway, here we go (again).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That was not the question of an author who has just been offered the deal of a lifetime.”
> 
> “I know but… would you be able to pack your bags and leave, out of the blue and with no second thought?” Brienne asked.

The last six months had been crazy, with the announcement of the rights for her book being on sale, Brienne had spent more time than she cared for going into meeting after meeting with different producers that wanted to take her mind baby and turn it into a live action movie. She had hated all of them, some because they had merely read the dust jackets of the book and not bothered knowing the story or the characters, probably only interested in getting their hands on a title that might sell well. Others had walked into the meeting after reading the books but wanted to change essential pieces of the story; they wanted Cap to look a certain way, a way that could land them big-name actresses, pretty little things that were the exact opposite of the physical description of her main character. There was the group that seemed to want to turn the movie into their little pieces of fan fiction, they wanted Cap and Jacobs to hook up, they wanted the tension between them to be sexual and the attraction to be almost a character in the movie, that was not something she liked.

“The Martell brothers want to meet us for the movie thing,” Sansa said over lunch. Brienne wouldn’t fully understand how the girl could eat only a small salad and grilled salmon for lunch and not be hungry; if she tried eating that for lunch, she would surely snap at someone before her afternoon coffee.

“I’ve been thinking about this whole movie thing, Sansa”, Brienne said a bit unsure, “Maybe it wasn’t a good idea, all these producers and directors want to change the story, and I’m not willing to go there for sales.”

Sansa remained silent for a minute, either because she was chewing or because she was thinking, Brienne didn’t know. 

“Okay,” she said, “But I do ask you for one last meeting, the Martell brothers are willing to fly from Dorne just to meet with us and I kind of agreed already,” Sansa added with a smile.

The Martell brothers didn’t just agree to fly to King’s Landing on quite short notice; they also asked the Stark Publishing team to join them for tea so they could discuss their deal. Apparently, both men thought that it was better to discuss business over food, something about eliminating the risk of a part being crabby because of hunger. And so, on a Tuesday afternoon, Brienne wondered if there was an unwritten rule that if there was a pair of rich brothers, one had to be great looking and the other needed to have a mind as sharp as a sword. 

Both Martell men had dark brown hair and intense eyes, their skin looked tanned, and their build was slim, though Oberyn clearly had more muscle and Dorian had some sort of handicap. Dorian did most of the talking at the beginning, taking over the introductions and thanking them for agreeing to meet. He went ahead and asked the waiter not to disturb them, and after asking how everybody was doing, started his presentation. If Dorian Martell had a handicap, it was only a physical thing because he was eloquent and charming, his quiet voice was relaxing and had a way to make you want to pay attention. And even when the older man was saying things that Brienne had heard from many other producers before, he somehow made it sound more honest, made himself more approachable. Then, once he was done, Dorian smiled at his brother and Oberyn Martell, like a player warming up in the sidelines, came to life. Where Dorian was calm and smooth, Oberyn was fire; his voice had a thicker accent, or maybe it was just a trick the man did to sound even more exotic. She figured Oberyn was about Jaime’s age, well, Oberyn was what she supposed would be a version of Jaime for the southern principality. The way he talked, the way he handled the room, the way he playfully called his brother a boring suit and dismissed the neat presentation that was showing on a laptop screen made both Brienne and Sansa wake up again.

“Miss Tarth,” Oberyn said in his delicious accent, “Despite the charming presentation my brother just did, here is where you might want to pay attention because this is where you might be interested.” 

Brienne took another sip of coffee and turned a little towards Sansa. 

“We would only be interested in buying the rights to the film as long as you agree to be part of the project,” Dorian Martell said softly, a boyish smile appearing on his face as he stole his brother’s line.

“What do you mean exactly, Mr. Martell?” 

“No one knows this story as much as you do, Miss Tarth, no one cares about these characters and knows what they are thinking better than you. So we want you to be a part of the movie, we want you to make sure we are doing things right”, Dorian said solemnly.

“We’d like you to read the screenplay adaptation, maybe even sit through the auditions although we would have to final say in casting. We want you to help us transmit the same feeling the books had into the films.” Oberyn explained, “You’d have full access to all filming locations, have the chance to sit with the crew as we shoot the whole thing, we are estimating around six to seven months of shooting.”

It would have been foolish to say no to their offer, it would have been stupid to let it slip, and if someone had come to her with this same offer a little over a year ago, Brienne wouldn’t have thought it twice. But things were different now, much different than she had thought they could ever be. Eighteen months ago, when she first set foot in King’s Landing, she had promised herself to leave as soon as she wrote the final dot on her book document. And then she found a reason to stay, a reason with green eyes and a warm smile, and she had pretty much forgotten about her vow and the fact that she really had nothing else to do in the city.

“That sounds amazing, really,” Brienne said nervously and saw out of the corner of her eye how Sansa was starting to smile brightly, “But do you think I could have a few days to think it over?”

Both Martell brothers looked a bit unsettled by her question, Sansa looked openly surprised. It was Dorian Martell who finally spoke, in a very polite voice he said that of course she could have a couple of days to think about it, but also urged her to please not take too long as they were leaving King’s Landing on Friday morning and would like to have her answer by then. Once Brienne promised to get back to them soon, hands were shaken, and then the ladies left. Sansa had the grace to wait until they were in the car before turning around and looking at Brienne as if she had lost her mind.

“That was not the question of an author who has just been offered the deal of a lifetime.”

“I know but… would you be able to pack your bags and leave, out of the blue and with no second thought?” Brienne asked.

“Oh,” Sansa said, suddenly realizing the reason behind Brienne’s confusion, “Oh.”

* * *

As soon as she stepped into her apartment, Brienne went straight into her bedroom and looked for something more comfortable to wear. She opened the doors to her small closet and took a look at the clothes that hanged there, her eyes settling on the farthest side on the left, where three dresses still in the bags from the laundry place rested. She owned dresses now, in blue, black and red, dresses that she had bought herself almost by her own accord, the last time she had willingly picked a dress she must have been six or seven before she got self-conscious about her body and her looks. Three dresses, three somewhat simple pieces of clothes that wouldn’t mean a thing in the guard robes of many women but that in hers, meant the world. 

The blue dress would always be her favorite; it was also his favorite, he had told her many times over. The red dress had been sort of a gift for him; she had worn that to the name day celebration Jaime’s father had held in honor of his oldest son. Sansa had helped her pick up the dress; she had even worked on it a little to ensure that the fabric had the right cut and form to show off what little curves Brienne had. And while she had felt silly getting all dressed up for a party that not even Jaime himself wanted to attend, the look on his face when she opened the door had been worth it.

“Did you know,” she had told him as she stepped out and locked the door, “That this color isn’t actually named Lannister red?”

A smile formed on Brienne’s lips at the memory of that night, it hadn’t been too bad, not when she put things into perspective. What was the shock and almost angry look some party goes threw her when in comparison to the warm hand of Jaime on the small of her back, the way his scent took over her senses whenever he leaned in to whisper something in her ear? She owned a blue dress that matched her eyes, which tried to remind her that she was her own woman, and then she owned a red dress, a Lannister red dress, which was her way of stating that she was more than happy to be his, for whoever long he’d have her. 

And then there was the black dress, her first and only little black dress if it could be considered as such, it had been a gift. She had seen it in a window pane and fell in love with it because she might be tall and broad, her face might be plain, her hair might not be shiny and soft, but she was still a girl, and there would always be a part of her that would want to wear a dress like that and turn heads when she walked into the room. Jaime must have noticed but he didn’t say anything, instead he later went back to that store with Sansa and picked it up for her. Always the romantic, he left it in a box on her bed for her to find when she got home, she still had that card with the single word written in it: ‘Tonight?’

She was sure she enjoyed that dress as much as he did, only the gods knew why he would enjoy it too, maybe because she felt prettier, and feeling prettier always made her feel bolder. Gifts were a two-way street now because her heart leaped every time she saw him in the sunglasses she got him for his name day. And her plan had worked perfectly when she bought a copy of his favorite movie, which was boring as hell but meant that he wrapped his arms around her for the whole two hours of documentary. And she loved the little lamp that she had one day bought for the other side of the bed, for his side of the bed, because although she had trouble sleeping with light in the room, it meant that he was spending the night and she would wake up to see him beside her. 

A knot formed in her throat at the thought of waking up together, that was relatively new to her, but she had gotten used to it almost instantly. The only man she had ever shared a bed with was Tormund, and while it had been nice to wake up sometimes to another warm body wrapped around hers, it was most common for them to wake up in separate sides of the bed, one hogging the sheets and the other grumpy from the cold. She had never woken up from the cold with Jaime. He was warm, a soft and yet firm presence by her, how could it be that in four or five months of spending the night together she had gotten so used to the weight of his arm on her waist, to the tickle of his stubble when she nuzzled against him and fought to remain asleep. If she moved to Tarth for the movie she would go back to sleeping alone, she would probably go back to her childhood bedroom at home and sleep alone through the night like she had done when they visited her father. But this time he wouldn’t be there at breakfast, he wouldn’t be there at night for strolls along the beach; he wouldn’t be there at all, and that was something that scared her.

Feeling the knots tying on her shoulders and back, Brienne looked at the clock and decided that she had enough time for a quick shower, she wanted a bath, but that wouldn’t do. The feeling of the hot water running at a steady rhythm against her skin made her feel a bit more at ease; she wished the water could wash away her problems too, but life didn’t work out that way. Her heart and her head were once again at a stalemate, Brienne started turning off the hot water. She took a deep breath, the cold water helping her clear her mind; five minutes later she closed the tabs, it turned out she already knew what she needed to do after all.

When he came in, she was in the kitchen working on a quick salad while the chicken finished roasting in the oven. Brienne looked at him and smiled, a sense of calm taking over her heart and reassuring her that she was making the right decision. Jaime, on the other hand, looked troubled. She knew he was tired, stressed out; his cheeks seemed a more hollow, his eyes didn’t shine as much lately. She had heard it night after night, the amount of stress he was under, the way his father was just sitting back, waiting for him to fail… Brienne was by no means president of the Tywin Lannister fan club, but after a few meetings with the eldest Lannister, she doubted that Tywin had it out for Jaime as much as Jaime thought. But she had been raised by a Navy captain, she was used to a bit of stern talking and a set of rules to go by. Jaime, on the other hand, was lucky enough to be able to remember the loving way in which his mother had treated him, shielded him, and when he compared that to Tywin’s treatment, well, his father didn’t come out as best dad in the world. Still, she said nothing, because if she had to choose between being right and begin with him, she’d always pick him.

“Hey,” she said softly after Jaime plumped down on the couch, “Rough day?”

He looked at her with empty, tired eyes and extended a hand towards her, she took it and allowed him to pull her to sit on the couch that was already getting lumpy, to pull her back against his chest. She felt him burring his nose against the crook of her neck and praised the gods that she had showered and surely smelled somewhat nice. Jaime planted a soft kiss on her skin, and despite it being a chaste little thing, a shiver ran down her spine.

“You know,” he said, “sometimes when I’m stuck in meetings with boring old men in their boring clothes and talking about their boring lives I feel this overwhelming dread that I’m looking at my future.”

She let the words sink in for a moment, allowed him to process his words, to breath deeply for maybe the first time in the day. Then she turned around, smiled at him and stood up, he made a face at the loss of contact but held her gaze. 

“You, Jaime Lannister, couldn’t be boring even if you tried,” she said with a smile.

It seemed to her that a warm homemade meal and a cold beer was everything Jaime needed because the moment he sat down in the small kitchen table and started digging into his food, a smile appeared in his face and he seemed to relax. He went on to talk about his day, the ups and downs, how close they were to launch his project, how one of the interns had almost set the coffee maker on fire, everyday things to him, even the coffee maker thing. And then the conversation turned, and he asked when she might be able to take a few days off, said that maybe they could plan a trip to Casterly Rock. He could finally show her the place where he grew up and that although the sea was not as calm and beautiful as the one in Tarth, maybe they could even go sailing.

Her smile faltered at the question of plans, she was about to bring up her meeting with the Martell brothers when suddenly Jaime turned his head around towards the living room, his eyes wider and he mumbled that he had forgotten entirely about some game that would be broadcasted. He looked at her and smiled, and before she even knew why, she told him to go ahead, watch the game while she did the dishes but that he’d have to do them the following two times. He chuckled and asked if there might be another way in which he could make it up to her, his eyebrows raising suggestively, and she fought the need to blush but told him that no, that the dishes would do.

She finished the dishes and joined him on the couch, leaning into him and seeking for comfort in his embrace. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders instinctively, not paying much attention to her as he watched the game, his team was losing, she hoped they could turn the game. She must have dozed off a little because when she opened her eyes next, the television was off and Jaime was shaking her by the shoulder a little, her eyes shot open then, with no real reason, and he moved away a little bit. She smiled at him and got up, stretched her arms and said it was time for bed. 

Brienne didn’t know if it was because of the pending conversation she had with Jaime or because she was tired and stressed, but suddenly her bed felt too small for the two of them. How could it not, when they were both tall and broad, when Jaime had taken to sleeping on his back, legs, and arms thrown out as if he was alone in his stupidly big and comfortable bed. He had once told her when they first started sharing a bed, that if at any point she didn’t feel like having him over, she could tell him, that he would not spend the night in the bed of a woman who didn’t want him there. But it had never occurred to her to do so, not until that very night at least.

“What’s wrong?”, Jaime’s voice broke the silence as she tried laying on her side of the hundredth time.

She froze in place for a second, guilty about waking him and relieved that he was bringing up the issue. Brienne sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed, the feel of the fuzzy carpet under her bare feet was somewhat comforting, she didn’t know why maybe because it made her feel grounded. She heard the sheets rumpling and felt the mattress dip further as Jaime sat against the headboard, there was a bit more movement, and then Jaime softly said he’d turn on the light. She partly wished he wouldn’t, Jaime Lannister with sleepy eyes and bed hair was one of her weaknesses and she needed all the strength she could gather for the upcoming conversation.

Brienne took a deep breath and turned to look at him, one year, one month and a few weeks, that was how long they had been dating and yet, she sometimes still looked at his face and wondered if he was really there. It amazed her how much she enjoyed his presence, and how much he seemed to enjoy hers; yet, right then, as he sat rubbing the sleep off his eyes, he didn’t look very pleased, he didn’t look very happy either; he looked worried, and it killed her.

“I had a meeting with Martell Productions today,” she started, and he nodded, “They… they are offering a great deal, Jaime, they want me on board, overseeing screenplay, talking to the director, everything…” 

“Bee, that’s amazing,” he said with a big smile, a puzzled look on his face.

“The thing is… they won’t do it if I’m not a part of the team… and that includes moving back to Tarth for the duration of the shooting, six to seven months.”

The smile fell from his face the minute she finished talking and a second later, the room filled with tension. The shock was evident in his face and despite knowing she needed to speak, she couldn’t, because talking would make things real and a part of her wanted to dream she could have it all at least for another minute. Brienne took a deep breath, and when she exhaled, she let go what she couldn’t have. 

“I told them I needed time… but I’m not taking it”, she added softly, her eyes pleading with him to say something.

“You should take it,” Jaime said, his voice suddenly clear and with no traces of sleep, but there was something new there, something she hadn’t heard before, he sounded… uneasy, a little nervous, a little jumpy, “You should take it,” he repeated, only lower this time.

She saw him stand up then, she saw him in the white shirt and plaid pajama pants that he left in her apartment for when he slept over, and while any other day that image would make her heart soar, that time it sank. Jaime’s eyes were wide open; his pupils dilated; she saw him pick up his clothes, the ones he was wearing when he walked in after work, she saw him pick up his shoes and belt, the phone from the nightstand, his keys and wallet. And then it clicked, he was leaving, he was leaving the apartment at probably one or two in the morning.

“Jaime, where are you going?” Brienne asked, and her voice was also soft, also shaky.

“I… I have an early morning tomorrow, I’m traveling to Braavos, remember? I need to go, I… forgot to pack, yes, I need to pack.”

“Jaime… we can talk it over?” she asked and followed him out the bedroom and into the living room, “Please, say something.” 

He froze for a moment, and Brienne’s heart beat hard against her chest. So hard she could have sworn they could both hear the erratic beat of it against her ribcage. 

“I have to go,” Jaime said, that strange look still in his eyes, “Call them, take the deal, really, take it, it will be good for you.”

“Jaime,” she said, but his name died in her lips, “Please,” she said just as he closed the door behind him.

 


	2. The Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tell me, son, when has the easy way been the thing that paid off the best?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I know these two chapters might have been a bit boring... but next one gets better, at least I had a great time outlining it!

Jaime knew that walking out of the apartment was a mistake the second he closed the car door, but by then he had also realized that he needed to take a minute alone, needed to breathe, and most importantly, he needed to think. He was certain of one thing and one thing only that he would not be the reason why Brienne let a tremendous opportunity slip by. She might have thought that she didn’t need that movie, that she could either do with what was second best or simply change her mind about selling the rights to her books altogether. But he knew that sooner or later she would come to regret that decision, and that regret might lead to resentment and he did not need that, they did not need that. She had to take that deal, whether she liked the idea or not, and although he was trying to be less selfish, he knew that the only reason why she’d even consider not taking the deal was him. So he drove to his apartment in his pajamas, rode the elevator in silence and unlocked the door. He walked into the living room and instantly the apartment felt empty; they would have to come up with something, he would have to come up with something, and fast, before she took his departure as something more significant than just the need for space.

He considered calling her on the way to the airport but refrained from it; she would surely not appreciate a call at 6:30 in the morning and he still hadn’t come up with a solution. So he figured that he could use the two-hour flight to think about it, maybe by the time they landed he would have a more lucid panorama of what to do, how to be able to keep everything in his life. Going into a long distance relationship would have been the default course to follow, but he was relatively new to the entire relationship world, so how on earth would he be able to navigate the long-distance relationship world. From where he stood, there could be three different scenarios that came out from doing the long distance thing.

Option A: either him or Brienne growing tired of the lack of contact, resenting one another for not having time to talk on the phone or do a video call or whatever it was couples did. Option B: they grew apart, which was the most likely scenario, Brienne was the most independent human being he had ever met, how was he supposed to keep her under his charm when she was so many miles apart? He would be miserable, for sure, and then she would start wondering if maybe there wasn’t someone else in the picture, because no matter how hard he tried, he hadn’t been able to convince her that he wanted no one else. And then there was Option C, the one he considered least likely, in which everything worked out just fine. Somehow he didn’t believe Option C would be an option at all.

So at the end of the two-hour flight, he was more confused and anguished than he had been before boarding the plan. Taking the deal was the right decision, he knew it, she surely did too, he was doing it for her, and while it was unfair that he expected Brienne to call him, he couldn’t help but feel a bit sad when his phone came off airplane mode, and no text got in. He took a taxi to the hotel, signs of upcoming Martell Productions movies in the streets, felt like salt rubbed in an open wound, he muttered a curse and tried to focus. A quick shower and he was ready for his meetings, all his business trips were the same, had been the same since he was twenty-one years old: airplane, hotel, shower, meeting, lunch, meeting, hotel, repeat for whatever number of days he was in the city. He dialed her number as the driver took off from the hotel, one ring, two rings, three rings and he picked up.

“Hey,” he said quickly trying to make things less awkward, “Hi.” 

“Hi”, she replied softly, her voice uneasy.

“Did you take the deal?”

“Yes,” she replied almost harshly, “I can still say no…”

“Don’t, it’s a good thing,” Now it was him who was talking in soft tones, “We’ll figure something out Brienne, we will.”

They talked a few more minutes until the cabbie informed Jaime that they had reached their destination, feeling slightly guilty, Jaime told Brienne that he needed to go but that he’d call her later, at night, and they could talk a bit more if she wanted. Feeling slightly calmer but sad at the same time, Jaime took a deep breath and entered the building; it was time for yet another meeting that would, most likely, kill a part of his soul.

He had expected to see Tycho Nestoris, head of the Iron Bank, he wasn’t surprised to see the face of Stannis Baratheon, and he even smiled at the sight of Olenna Tyrell but what he had not expected was to see his father sitting on Tycho’s right, Tywin's unreadable eyes staring right at him. Jaime greeted everyone and nodded at his father, standing tall and squaring his shoulders, he asked the room if they were ready to start.

Getting the Iron Bank on board with them, and getting names like Tyrell and Baratheon to support his project would be key for its success, and so, Jaime gathered every bit of patience he had and stood firm while taking every single question thrown his way. He answered questions on how his app would work, on why it would be used, on how it was expected to represent some gain for them. He smiled at Olenna, charming as always, and took her questions, he presented facts and figures to Stannis Baratheon. The lunch break was a welcomed distraction, but apparently, it also gave Tycho Nestoris enough time to come up with more questions that tried to be intimidating but only showed how limited his knowledge was in the area discussed. Jaime was about to lose his patience when, in an unprecedented chain of events, Tywin Lannister, who had remained relatively quiet until then, took over the room.

“And why exactly, should I risk the name of the Iron Bank for your little experiment?”, Tycho asked after clearly not understanding anything Jaime had been explaining for the past few hours. 

“Because it will work,” Tywing interrupted before Jaime could even open his mouth, “I vouch for him.”

With four words, Tywin Lannister concluded the meeting. The room quickly emptied, and Jaime picked up his things, still a bit in awe at what had happened. Usually, his father was the first to shoot him down. He tried not to overthink it, that was probably a move to save the family name, how dare a simple director of a bank shame the heir to the Lannister corporation, yes, that must have been it, the need to save face. But just as he was leaving, Tywin caught up with him and suggested, for the first time in Jaime’s life, that they got a few drinks together.

Drinking with Tywin Lannister, just the two of them and not out of obligation, he figured must be like drinking with the High Septon; something a bit awkward, a situation in which you didn’t know if you should drink, what to drink or how much to drink. Seeing his father perched in a bar stool, a place that looked so common for a man like him, was rather… interesting, not unsettling but not completely easing either. Still, this was the first time in his life that his father had asked him out for a drink instead of ordering him to have dinner together, so he wasn’t going to mess things up… not so fast anyway.

“Thank you”, Jaime said a bit uneasy, “for having my back in that meeting.”

“Tycho was being an idiot”, Tywin replied.

They drank in silence and ate in silence, the whole experience something surreal, and Jaime wondered what they might look like, an adult entering middle age and an old man, both dressed in suits, both obviously related and, yet, in complete silence. The bartender made himself scarce after a few stern looks from Tywin and Jaime ate his dinner almost robotically, not tasting much of his food as he chewed and swallowed. He wasn’t worried about making small talk with his father; he had given up on that decades ago, instead, he was worried about not being able to call Brienne and worse, not knowing what to say when he did call. 

The bartender took away their empty plates, and Jaime pulled his beer closer, playing a little with the condensation that formed in the bottle. Besides him, his father looked as if he wanted to say something, his usually plain face had a bit of a worried look in it. Jaime waited for his father to say something but the man didn’t speak, instead, when the check came, Tywin reached for it, threw a few bills that would more than cover the tab and then asked Jaime if he was ready to go. The short walk back to the hotel passed in silence, the weight of his phone burning in his pocket. 

“You’re worried about something”, Tywin said suddenly as they rode the elevator and Jaime thought that maybe, just maybe, there was a bit of concern in his father’s voice, “I know we are not exactly close, but I have lived a bit longer than you, in case you want some advice.”

Perhaps it was the fact that he was absolutely lost and had no idea how to handle the situation or the fact that his father had never sincerely offered any advice before, but Jaime took one look at his old man and asked if maybe he wanted to grab a scotch in his room. They sat in silence for a few minutes and then, just as Jaime started pouring the scotch, he started pouring his heart. He told Tywin about the movie deal, walking out in the middle of the night, not wanting to be an obstacle between Brienne and success but not knowing what to do or if he’d be able to be in a relationship when the two of them would be far away. And once he started talking, he couldn’t stop, because he realized that other than his brother and maybe even Sandor Clegane, he didn’t have other friends and he didn’t share his burdens, and the gods knew those were heavy. Surprisingly, Tywin Lannister just sat down and listened, no judgment in his face, no interruptions, just… openness, the kind of openness that Jaime never thought to ever find in his father.

“Did you know I met your mother when we were just children?” Tywin asked rather plainly, though coming from him the tone could be considered almost soft, almost dreamy.

Jaime stared at his father, his mouth probably slightly opened. Tywin Lannister never talked about their mother, ever; the day Joanna had died was the last day Jaime said her name in something louder than a whisper in Casterly Rock. So to have his father not only mention his mother but also share something about their past, about their relationship, was unprecedented. Jaime remained quiet, afraid of saying the wrong thing and ruining things. 

“I might have loved her instantly, she took a little longer to set her eyes on me,” Tywin said with a strange gesture on his face which Jaime recognized as a smile, when had it been the last time he saw his father smiling? He couldn’t remember, “But her father moved to the capital shortly after we started a friendship, she lived away for years before we met again.” 

“What did you do?”, Jaime asked almost shyly, no longer the man of thirty-three but a boy of maybe ten and three.

“I went ahead and fell in love,” Tywin said and chuckled, the man actually chuckled, and Jaime started discovering a whole new side to his father. “That girl is so different from you, so different from what you’re used to that she might just be exactly what you need. You live in a different time, son, your mother and I didn’t have any cellphones or emails, we had letters, it was a beautiful thing, and they took their sweet time arriving.”

“You sent mother letters?”, Jaime asked, a smile forming on his face at the idea of the stern Tywin Lannister sitting down to pen a letter.

“Now, Tyrion is the poet, you inherited my brain for numbers, but I’m sure you aren’t as lazy as to think that just because it will take some extra work, it won’t be worth it. Tell me, son, when has the easy way been the thing that paid off the best?”

Tywin Lannister finished off the scotch in his glass and then stood up, he placed a hand on Jaime’s shoulder and squeezed it lightly, a night of conversation and physical contact, everything seemed so strange to Jaime, so strange and yet so right. He watched his father go away, closing the door behind him, and Jaime got up to pour himself another drink. He wouldn't be the first man to bear distance in a relationship; he wouldn't let his fears get the best of him, he could try it out for her, for them, he would try. Checking the time, he figured that despite the time difference it was still late to call Brienne. He sent her a text bidding her goodnight and asked if it would be okay for him to visit her apartment the following evening. Not two minutes went by before she replied, she’d be home around 7, he was more than welcome to join her whenever he landed.

Maybe it was because he now had a slightly better idea of what he’d be telling Brienne when they met again, or maybe it was that the presence of his father wasn’t as unnerving as before, but the flight back went by much faster than the flight in. It was as if one minute he had taken out his laptop to work away the hours and the next, a smiling lady in a short skirt was asking him to please put away the device. When they finally landed, the only thing in Jaime's mind was making his way to her apartment in Muddy Way, but then Tywin offered him a ride and Jaime didn’t refuse. How many times had Brienne told him to make an effort at the relationship with his father? Well, now that Tywin had taken the first step, he’d be damned if he didn’t take the second one. So they rode in silence, sharing the back seat until the driver reached Jaime’s apartment and Tywin said he looked forward to Sunday night, for once, Jaime said he looked forward to it too.

After a quick shower to get all the germs off skin and wash away the feeling of tiredness that always took over him after business trips, Jaime got dressed in jeans and a casual button down and made his away to Brienne’s. The drive was slow, Friday night traffic was dense, and it seemed like everybody was in such a hurry to get home that they drove awfully. By the time he found a parking spot on her street, one that was a bit farther away from the building’s entry, Jaime was feeling stressed out. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and tried to calm down.

He considered using his spare key but decided against it; they hadn’t exactly parted in the most adequate of terms as to have him barging in like he owned the place; so he knocked on the door, and waited. Not a minute went by and there she was, standing before him, and he smiled slightly, but she didn’t smile back.

_Okay, I deserve that_ , he thought as he followed her in.

The difference between what he had walked into on Wednesday night and what he was walking into that night was clear. There was no dinner cooking, no wine waiting to be poured, the apartment itself was a bit darker than a few days ago, and silent, so very silent. He followed her in, walking straight to the living room where a discarded book laid on the coffee table, the same book she had been reading for the past few weeks.

“How was your trip?”, Brienne asked breaking the silence.

“Good, interesting” he replied, “And your meeting with the Martells?” 

“We have officially sold the rights; they already had a few names in mind for the cast so they are guessing that shooting might start quite soon… And my lease is up by the end of next week, it was sheer luck that I didn’t sign another extension I guess.”

Her words hit him harder than they ought to, he had never thought about her lease before, in all honesty, he had kind of completely forgotten that Brienne didn’t actually live in King’s Landing until eighteen or so months ago; he had forgotten that two years ago, he hadn’t even thought of her as a real person. He wanted to tell her to take a seat but still didn’t feel in a position to ask anything from her. 

“I talked to my father, and I’ll be moving back to Tarth, so… just let me know when you want to come and pick up your things… I can leave the door open and…”

“Wait, Brienne,” Jaime said a little confused and stood up to make his way to where she was standing, “Hold on, what are you talking about?”

“You once told me you didn’t believe in long-distance relationships,” she said in a defeated whisper.

_Fuck_ , he thought. 

Now it all made sense; the desperation in her voice as she pleaded him to stay, the reason why she had so quickly decided to pass on the opportunity of the film, the nervousness with which she had opened the door a few minutes before. And she was right. She had once asked him how he was still single and he told her that the longest relationship he ever had was with a model, that while they had been happy during her time in King’s Landing, once she started travelling things fell through because he didn’t do long distance, didn’t believe love could survive it. That was where he had been wrong though because he had never loved that girl, he hadn’t felt for her half the things he felt for Brienne. For Alys, he would have traveled the fifteen minutes from his place to hers for a quick fuck in the dark, for Brienne, he’d travel the world just to lay beside her at night.

“I know,” he admitted, “But I was wrong, Brienne, it doesn’t have to be easy, it only has to work. I’ll travel, you’ll travel, we can even meet halfway.”

“Jaime… I don’t want to force you to do something you…”

“We can make it work,” he said, almost promised. “That table from the coffee shop can be any table; it can be in King’s Landing, Tarth, the Vale, across the Narrow Sea, as long as it’s you and me there, it can be anywhere we want it to be.”

There was hope in her eyes, he could see it, and he could also see that she was fighting it. He saw her in the same position he had been two days ago, not wanting to put himself before her desires, not wanting to be selfish and end up making her miserable. But if she thought that he’d be miserable by being in a long-distance relationship with her, she had no idea how miserable he would be without her at all. 

“Six months, Brienne, we only need to make it through six months.”

“We don’t know that…”, she said timidly.

_So that was it, that’s what is keeping her at arm's length_ , Jaime thought. 

And fuck his life because she was right again. It would be six to seven months for sure, but they didn’t know what would happen afterward. What if a second movie was picked, she might have to move to another part of Westeros, nothing really guaranteed that she’d be coming back to King’s Landing and he didn’t know exactly how long he’d be able to maintain a relationship as such. But that would be for them to worry about later, right? Why sacrifice a good thing out of fear of the unknown, he worked with the unknown every single day and so far, he had been lucky enough to win most of those battles.

“I’m willing to try if you are, I swear I am… but I’m not going in if you’re not sure, we are either in this together or… or we are not.”

There was a second of doubt in her eyes, and then the brightest smile took over her features, hope and peace evident in the way her eyes shone and Jaime knew the wall had come down. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into, she was right, they didn’t know what would happen in six months, hells, they didn’t know what would happen in one month, but why not enjoy the ride while it lasted. 

“So, we’re going the distance, then?”, he asked with a smile that matched hers.

“We’re going the distance,” Brienne agreed.

 


	3. Hell with a View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I want to tell you about high school,” she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about the late update, but this chapter is slightly longer and was definitely in need of some polishing so it took longer to edit. I hope it was worth the wait.

_You’ve got to calm down_ , Brienne told herself, it’s been a little over a month, _it’s not like his coming back from war._

She had absolutely no reason to worry, but he was late, half an hour late, and he hadn’t called. There was no way he had gotten lost on the island; he had already been to Tarth once before, and the island itself wasn’t that big anyway. He couldn’t have found traffic; it was a Thursday afternoon, there were almost no cars on the streets. And she couldn’t have missed him, how on earth was she supposed to miss a car like his? She was certain that once he got on the island, word would spread around like wildfire about the newcomer with the shiny expensive car. But still, she worried because he might not be lost buy maybe he got stuck in a meeting and didn’t catch the ferry on time, perhaps he had forgotten to charge his phone, or it was her phone which was off. Worried, Brienne dug into her purse, took out the book she was currently reading and checked her phone; the battery was working perfectly, no new messages received. She threw the phone back in the purse, picked up the book and opened it, but instead of her eyes going to the text, they went to the little postcard that she used as a marker.

When had that arrived? Probably during her first week in Tarth. She hadn’t been expecting it; she would have never in a thousand years even think that Jaime Lannister would consider using snail mail to send her something. But one day she had come back home from a reading of the main scenes and she had found the postcard waiting for her on top of her bed. ‘Greetings from King’s Landing’ and a sketched map of the city in the cover, when she turned it over, the silly message made her smile: ‘Couldn’t figure how to write a love letter, Jaime.’ She bought a postcard the very next morning, scribbled a few lines and walked during the lunch break to the post office. The old man behind the counter was the same employee who had been there since she could remember, and he smiled at the sight of someone young sending a piece of paper through the mail instead of using a computer. And now she carried that postcard with her everywhere, that was her first love letter, even if Jaime thought it wasn’t.

The sound of the door opening made her turn around for what she felt was the tenth time since she had arrived, only that this time, it was him getting in. She smiled the instant their eyes met and he smiled too. With a steady step, Jaime made his way across the room to join her at the table, a small smile that never left his face, a shine in his green eyes that she suspected only matched hers. At her request and since neither of them knew how to work the whole long distance thing, they had talked a lot during her last week in King’s Landing. They sat down and set a few rules to follow, things that would help them manage the expectations and guide them in how to communicate only over the phone or texts. And for the most part, they had handled the distance well, there was maybe a time or two in which things got a little awkward, but now that he was there, standing before her, she couldn’t care less.

“I’m so sorry for the delay,” Jaime said once he got closer, “I had to answer a call, and Petyr fucking Baelish wouldn’t shut up, I’ve been sitting in my car for the last half hour dying to get in here.”

Despite her usual discomfort with public displays of affection, Brienne allowed him to finish talking and then quickly closed the distance between them, planting a soft kiss in those lips that she had missed so much.

“Hi,” she said with a timid smile and took him in.

His eyes were a bit wider, definitely surprised by her strange behavior. He looked tired, quite tired if she was telling the truth, there were bags under his eyes and his face looked a little thinner, the angles of his jaw more prominent. There was a slight stubble growing on his face, and while in any other man it might have looked unkept, it made Brienne wonder how it would feel against her skin, if the rough contact would be pleasant and if he could maybe grow a beard, he might look good with a beard.

“Hi,” he said after a heartbeat, “I’ve missed you. Can we go? We can have coffee tomorrow.”

Brienne could remember the way she felt the first time crossed the lobby on her way to spend the night at Jaime’s apartment. She had her things in a big purse in a sorry attempt to keep hidden the fact that she was not going home later, she had smiled at the doorman and he had smiled back politely, but in Brienne’s mind, the older man who held the door open for her surely knew that she was not going home. Nothing happened that first night she stayed over, nothing happened for the longest time actually, but in her head, everyone she crossed paths with assumed that she was going to get laid, that Jaime Lannister was having a girl over to have sex. She wanted to go back in time and slap herself, first because no one really cared who Jaime brought up to his apartment, and second, because that uneasy feeling was nothing in comparison to crossing a hotel lobby with Jaime, even when she wasn’t planning on spending the night either. 

She felt as if the receptionist was staring at her, and she probably was, a man like Jaime Lannister was someone you remembered, especially in the most expensive hotel of the island, a man like him who looked elegant and was visiting during the offseason just had to make an impression. The fact that Brienne was pretty sure that she had gone to school with the manager on duty didn’t make things easier either because that made two pairs of eyes that were glued to her form as she walked hand in hand with her boyfriend towards the elevators. Brienne pushed back all feelings of insecurity the second the elevator doors closed, and Jaime squeezed her hand, the action taking her away from the problematic imaginary world she was venturing into and bringing her back to reality, for once, reality was way better than her dreams.

“What’s with the stubble?”, she asked rubbing the back of her hand against the sharp edge of his jaw, her body tingling at the pleasant scratch it left.

“I was going for the classic King’s Landing hobo look, trying to be less appealing to the female sex as my girlfriend currently lives away from the city.” 

“Well, that didn’t work,” she said smiling and saw Jaime darting out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened.

“Are you coming?”, he asked with a mischievous smile.

She followed him to the end of the hallway and then walked through the boring door that looked like every other one in the entire building. Silently she stepped into the room as Jaime closed and locked the door behind them.

_Shit_ , she thought, her brain finally catching up with her heart.

She shouldn’t have touched him as she did in the elevator, she shouldn’t have kissed him in the middle of the coffee shop or allow him to bring her back to his hotel. He’d expect them to have sex, right? That was what would be expected, what society said should happen. You don’t see your gorgeous boyfriend for a month; you agree to go back to his hotel, then sex must inevitably follow. But sex was still one of those subjects that made her slightly uneasy; she was getting better at most things, she was perfectly comfortable with holding hands and hugs and him resting his hand on her knee or elbow while they were out or having drinks with friends. She was fine with making out on the couch like teenagers, with his hands roaming over the few curves she had. And she was okay with cuddling through the night even when some mornings she woke up and could feel his arousal against her. They had been dating for over a year, they had had sex before, and it had been good, he had been so good to her, but there was still something damaged in her, something that saw sex as a downfall and not as an act to bring people closer together. She had told him that while she didn’t regret it, she wasn’t too sure she was ready to be more of it yet. And now he was looking at her with darkened eyes, the sun was setting, and the room was getting darker, and she was standing in the middle of his hotel room, and he surely must have been expecting something. 

“If you think I expect you to put out just because we’ve been apart for a few weeks, you’re an idiot,” Jaime said with a faint smile as he closed his eyes and fell backward into the bed.

“Can’t put it any more crassly?”, she asked as he climbed higher on the bed, kicking off his shoes and letting them fall at the end of the bed. He rose an eyebrow at the challenge.

“If you think I’m assuming you’ll let me fuck you…”

“Jaime!”, Brienne said blushing, of course, he could put it more crassly, he was a man after all, had gone to an all-boys boarding school during his childhood and teenage years and all those things.

“The only thing I expect is for you to climb into this bed with me and let me kiss you, hold you, because I don’t know about you, but I’ve missed you dearly.”

It was dark outside by the time she finally convinced herself that she needed to get out of bed, but she was so tired and so comfortable, and Jaime was so warm, and he was wrapped around her, and she really didn’t want to leave. But she had to, because in her haste to get to him, she had forgotten to cancel dinner with her father and he would be expecting her, expecting them probably. She regretted circling the date Jaime would be visiting with a red fat marker, it was a childish thing to do, but she had been so excited that she couldn't help herself at the time.

Brienne shifted to turn on her side, face to face with Jaime Lannister and his new stubble. She liked it. She liked how it felt against her hands and against her jaw, she liked how it made him look, slightly less elegant if that was possible, slightly older too… when she had developed a thing for older men, she didn’t know. It wasn’t exactly that he was a lot older than her, seven years. Sandor Clegane as older than Sansa by eight years and they still seemed to work just fine, more than fine from the emails and texts she exchanged with her friend and publisher.

“Jaime…”, Brienne whispered his name and ran her hand through his hair; it was longer too, she didn’t quite know how she felt about it. “Sweetheart”

“If you’re waking me up to tell me you’re leaving, I’m going to be so mad.” He warned her and wiggled his way closer to her. There were very few times in which Brienne was glad she was as tall as she was, but with Jaime cuddling into her, his head resting against her long neck and tucked under her chin, she was glad that she was slightly taller than him. 

“My dad is expecting me for dinner…”

She could feel him tense up a little at the mention of her father and couldn’t help but smile. Jaime Lannister and Selwyn Tarth had a very particular relationship, Brienne could still remember the first time those two had met, opposite as day and night, and yet, both of them trying to get along for her sake.

“Well, we can’t keep your dad waiting,” Jaime said and got out of bed.

The drive to her family home was short, but then again, every drive in her small island was short. The second they got into the car it started raining, Jaime muttered something under his breath about rain and her family but pretended not to listen when she asked him to repeat himself. He drove through the streets as if he owned the place, taking turns before she even needed to tell him to, getting to her house was relatively easy, it was the biggest one on the island, the one on top of the hill that overlooked the town. In a matter of minutes, they had left behind the most touristic parts of Tarth and were on the lonely road that led to her place.

She entered the house with Jaime slightly behind her, now more awake than before but his face also a bit more serious. There was no trace of the playfulness with which they had ridden the elevator to his room, no trace of the adoration that had been so evident to her as they made out on his bed. She wished that Jaime and her father could get along better, that they could reach some kind of friendship instead of just courtesy and civility. But she also knew how hard it must have been for a man like her father to see her bring home a man like Jaime, beautiful and powerful. Despite all the positive things she said, despite how happy Jaime made her, despite it was Selwyn himself who told her to reach out for Jaime, her dad was cautious of him.

“Captain Tarth”

Jaime’s voice rung across the dining room, and for a minute, it felt strange to hear another man’s voice in her home. It had been her and dad in that house for the longest time, well, her, dad and Goodwin, but hearing a third man's voice between those walls was something new. That feeling only lasted a second though, because when she turned to look at Jaime, and he smiled softly at her, Brienne wondered when did he start being an image that just belonged here, in Evenfall Hall.

“Jaime,” her father said, and the men shook hands slightly longer than necessary, probably both trying to establish who the alpha was in that relationship. “Trying to grow some facial hair, boy?”

Brienne’s heart skipped a beat, her blood started running cold, and then she turned to look at her father and saw a smile on his face, her dad had just made a joke to someone that wasn’t her, that surely was an improvement in the men’s relationship, right?

* * *

The idea of going back to high school, even if it was just the building that had been home to her for most of her childhood and teenage years, filled her with thread. But when her old principal had bumped into her in the supermarket and asked with that quiet and tender voice if she’d please go back to speak at career day, Brienne hadn’t had the heart to say no. Mr. Endrew had always been nice to her, nicer than any of the teachers and certainly nicer than the students. Now, as he looked frail and older, he was asking her to please go back and tell the students that they could make a living out of the arts, so she certainly would go and do that, even if it meant facing her fears again. She told Jaime that the affair would last an hour at most, Mr. Endrew had been kind enough to schedule her as the first speaker so that she could get out as soon as possible. But he had insisted on going with her, and, to be completely honest, she was relieved to have her by her side.

The bright fluorescent lights, the shiny floors and the ticking of the big clocks on the hallways, the smell of that hideous all in one deodorant and body spray that teenage boys wore, the haunting echo of mumbling that roared across the halls... the moment Brienne stepped through the doors, she felt right back in high school, and she hated it. As she made her way to the auditorium, she could remember every hellish detail of her time in high school. There where the ladies room, where she had hidden and ate lunch alone when she was a junior. Around the corner was the library, where she had become friends with the old librarian who had retired the same year she was a senior, leaving her friendless. There was the gym, the only place where she had something of a happy memory. But then there was the shower room, where she had to get undressed and clench her teeth as the other girls, the curvier girls and even the plain girls, made comments about her body and refused to shower next to her. 

Down the hall was the cafeteria, where more than once she was tripped and dropped her tray, leaving her starving for the rest of the day. That was also the place where she saw many prom proposals going on, the jocks from the different school teams asking the cheerleaders out, the nerds nervously asking the girls from the band with less flashy proposals but cute in their own ways. In that cafeteria hall, she had been the publicly humiliated as a boy from the sailing team asked her to be his date only to back out two days before the event, leaving her with a dress she would never wear and a brokenhearted father. She hated that hall, she hated those plastic chairs, and she hated that stupid banner that encouraged school spirit. So she purposely took Jaime’s hand and walked through those doors, she walked in with her head held high and with a gorgeous man by her side and she realized that the place was smaller than she remembered.

“Fighting demons?”, Jaime asked as he threw an arm around her shoulders.

Taking the long way to the auditorium, they crossed the open area between Hall A and Hall B. That was where the couples used to lounge under the sun in the summer, where she had broken her nose for the first time after someone ‘accidentally’ threw a ball at her. Brienne turned around and saw the oldest tree on campus, a thick tree that had initials carved all over the bark; gods, how had she longed to have a boy carve their initials in it, she wondered if it was too late to do that now. 

“This place was my definition of hell,” she said and slowed down the pace. 

“Hell with a view,” Jaime said as he turned to look around the cliff, the sea roaring and waves crashing against the rock where the school was built.

“But hell nonetheless.” 

With him by her side, she felt invincible. Eight months ago she would have been mad at herself for feeling that way; she would have told herself, very sternly, that she didn’t need a man. That she was the same with or without him, she was, after all, a best-selling author and it was because of her books that she was invited back to the school. But she had fought those thoughts before, and now she knew that yes, indeed, it was because of her books that she was invited, but it was because of Jaime that she could walk with her head held high across those halls. Because it was never her brains what were mocked in that hellish place called high school, it wasn’t her intellect or her ability to succeed what her classmates ridiculed, what they used to tease her. It was her looks what they mocked, her body, her hair, her rare smile, it was her lack of feminity that they used against her, so having her boyfriend next to her was all she needed to prove them wrong, even if those kids weren’t around to see it. 

She turned a corner and found her old locker, the same she had for all those years, and almost as in a dream she saw herself, fifteen and alone, broader than the locker, head held down and shoulders slumped. She saw the of a girl who tried to convince herself that even if she was not to be loved, she could be successful. She wanted to tell her younger self that they did alright, that everything she had to endure finally paid off, and that they were wrong because they were worthy of love and one day they'd find a man who loved them. Brienne smiled absently and continued walking, she could already hear the buzz coming from the auditorium, and the rush she got before every reading started within her, her palms got clammy and she tried to pull away, but Jaime didn’t let go of her.

Mr. Endrew was waiting for them by the door, a smile on his face as he saw her walking towards him, a smile that she thought grew as the elder man saw Brienne’s companion. The older man started going over the program, telling Brienne how excited the students were about having a chance to meet her, he was saying that she was one of the schools most successful students and how proud they all were about having her back in Tarth, even if it was just for a few months. Brienne was smiling, a little bored already but trying to be polite, Jaime was clearly staring at something else. Brienne turned to check the clock in the middle of the hall, and her blood froze. Almost as in slow motion, she saw her coming closer, first it was just a blur, then she heard the click of heels against the linoleum floor and finally, when she was a few feet away, Brienne’s heart clenched as she realized that the woman walking as if working the catwalk was, indeed, Margaery Tyrell.

“Jaime, dear, is that you?”

Margaery Tyrell’s high pitched voice echoed in the hallways and gone was confident Brienne, the woman who had paraded around campus feeling like she owned the place and back was Brienne the Beauty, the awkward girl who was the punch line of every single joke. Of course, Margaery had paid attention to Jaime first, completely ignoring Brienne and Mr. Endrew and focusing her attention on the Lannister man. Brienne regretted dropping Jaime’s hand to push a strand of hair behind her ear; it would be too obvious to reach for his hand now, it would show too much her insecurities.

“Margery, what a coincidence to find you here.” Jaime said with a broad smile, too broad to be real, Brienne noticed and smiled softly.

“Miss Tyrell will be sharing with us her work in charity and the High Garden Fund to help children in poverty,” Mr. Endrew said half as an explanation and half as an introduction, “She’ll be speaking after you, Brienne.” 

Only when Mr. Endrew addressed her did Margaery Tyrell finally turned to look at Brienne’s way, her eyes leaving Jaime’s form for a second before smiling broadly and mumbling her apologies for not noticing her, as if that was even possible. Margaery took a step forward and held Brienne in a loose embrace, planted a quick kiss on her cheek before stepping away, and planting a kiss on Jaime’s cheek, apologizing for her lack of manners. So there they were, four adults caught in a cloud of expensive flowery perfume, two of them pretty, two of them plain. Quite the sight they must have been to the senior who stepped out on the hallway to let Mr. Endrew how that everything was ready to begin. The girl’s eyes went wide at the sight of Brienne, either in recognition or surprise, she didn’t know, and then went more so at the pretty sight of Margaery and Jaime. They were ushered inside, Brienne leading the way and regretting her decision on that very instant, as out of the corner of her eye she saw Margaery lacing her arm with Jaime’s.

True to his word, Mr. Endrew introduced Brienne after reading a brief biography and saying how proud they were all of having her with them, a round of applause was heard across the auditorium as she went up the short flight of stairs and started her little speech. How different it was to see everybody from where she stood, how easy it was to look at the cliques and place of each kid in the social food chain. The jocks and cheerleads were easy to spot with their varsity jackets and uniforms; all huddled up in a back corner of the room. The band geeks and the nerds from the different and less popular clubs were also grouped somewhere in the front of the auditorium, and then there were the loners and the odd kids, those who didn’t belong anywhere, those who even if they tried to blend in, just stood out. She talked to them, wishing that someone had taken the time to talk in her direction when she was a child. She smiled at the girls who lowered their gazes when she made eye contact with them; she looked at the kids with charcoal in their fingertips from sketching in between periods and even during class. Then, when she finished, she smiled at all of them when the round of applause made her auditorium vibrate. And that was when she noticed that all eyes were focused on her, and that her decision to wear heels probably wasn’t so smart, because going up the stairs had been easy, but coming down would be a whole different story.

She pictured herself tripping and falling, she saw the entire school laughing at her, and knew she’d be able to recognize Margaery’s laughter over the rest of them. Brienne took a deep breath and picked up her notes; she started walking slowly towards the stairs as Mr. Endrew thanked her for the advice and started introducing Margaery. Brienne had one foot on the first step when she noticed Jaime’s hand stretched out and waiting for her to take it, she looked down and smiled at him, taking his hand in hers, feeling the tight grip it provided, Brienne went down the stairs without a problem. He didn’t let go when she finished coming down, something that not only she noticed, that not only the teenagers in the room noticed, but something that Margaery noticed too, as she made her way up the stairs and towards the podium. 

Her original plan was to walk out after her talk, but given that they were seated in the front row, Brienne figured it would be rude to stand up and leave. When it was finally time to go, a kid approached Brienne and asked if she could sign her book and before she knew it, there was a line of kids with Oathkeeper books in hand and sharpies ready to be used. Brienne turned to look at Jaime, who she knew was bored out of his mind, but he smiled reassuringly at her and pulled his phone out of a pocket, motioning that he’d be outside taking a call.

From where she sat it was easy to see the moment when Jaime walked back into the auditorium, it was easier even to see Margaery snaking her way towards him, a hand placed softly over his forearm. There was a small group of kids making their way to where Jaime and Margaery stood, and to her surprise, the boys completely ignored Margaery, directing their questions towards Jaime instead. Brienne looked at the short line that still stood before her, hurried to finish signing the books and then walked towards where her boyfriend and nemesis stood. 

_Nemesis?_ she asked herself, _what are you, twelve?_

“So… You’re with her?”, Brienne could hear Margaery asking, the sultry look in her eyes and flirtatious tone so obvious it would be hard to miss.

“Yeah,” Jaime said oblivious to the flirty tone, his hands on his pockets, the bored look in his face clear as day. Brienne wondered if he was being dense on purpose and then thought that maybe he really didn’t notice, maybe that was just the way women talked to him.

“Unbelievable…”, Margaery said, “You and Brienne Tarth…”

“I know, right?”, he said, and Brienne's heart tightened, “She’s way out of my league.” 

The smile that formed on his face as he talked was a genuine one, a half smile that came from his heart and made Brienne feel back on cloud nine. Their eyes met then, and she didn’t mind that she probably looked like a lovesick puppy, that she was carrying her heart so obviously on her sleeve. 

“Now if you excuse me, I’m taking my girlfriend out for lunch. Say hi to Willas for me.”

* * *

“I want to tell you about high school,” she said as they finished yet another meal at her father’s home.

After a quick lunch, Jaime apologized and said he needed to go online for a meeting; he had kissed her goodbye and left her at home, promising to come back later at night to have another awkward dinner with Selwyn Tarth. She told him they could cancel on her dad, that they could go somewhere just the two of them but Jaime declined, he said that it was the least he could do after all the times he had dragged her over to dinner with his father and that he knew Brienne wanted Selwyn and him to get along better. So he showed up around six, they had had dinner, and then her father had retired for the night, leaving them alone in the living room before the burning fire. The room had been peacefully quiet, the feeling of Jaime’s hand going up and down her arm reassuring, and after everything that had gone down that day, she knew that if there would be a time for her to tell him about her torturous teenage years it was right then.

“You don’t have to,” he mumbled into her hair.

“I know, but I want to tell you,” she said standing up and walking towards the liquor cabinet, Jaime’s eyes glued to her, “We’re going to need this,” she added pulling out a bottle of scotch. “Come with me?”

The nights were dark in Tarth, darker than they could ever be in King’s Landing, but she knew the path to the beach like the back of her hand, she knew the places were the steps were loose and the shortcuts that would lead them straight to the shore. With a bottle of scotch in one hand and Jaime’s in another, Brienne took in a deep breath of ocean air and felt free. She took off her shoes and watched Jaime do the same, sitting down by the shore, she dug her feet in the warm sand and threw her body back, she’d be getting sand all over her hair and clothes, but that had never bothered her before. She saw Jaime’s outline sitting next to her, his arms going around his knees, he was waiting for her to be ready and she felt a little guilty, he was always waiting for her to be ready.

“What were you in high school?”, Brienne asked softly, a part of her already knowing the answer.

“An idiot,” he replied with a chuckle.

“Up until junior year I was a ghost,” she started, “or I tried to be. I was that kid who tried to blend in the back, ate lunch alone, spent her free time in the library, I didn’t get invited to parties, but that was fine by me, the first and only party I ever went to ended up being a cruel joke. I thought it was bad but not unbearable, at least I wasn’t picked last for anything sports-, I had that in my favor. I would say I had a couple of friends, but that wouldn’t be completely accurate, I had acquaintances, a little study group, a lab partner, at least someone who was as much of an outsider as me for class projects.”

She felt the small smile on her lips as she recalled those simpler times, and could see the confused look on Jaime’s face, certainly not understanding how she could think of those memories as the good ones. But he had been on the other end of the food chain during his schooling years; he had probably never stopped twice to think about the geeks and misfits. For the jocks, anyone who wasn’t them was a loser and didn’t matter; they didn’t know even losers had foodchains.

“And then, in junior year, Margaery Tyrell transferred from High Garden, and everything changed,” Brienne said and let out a sigh. “She told everybody that she was transferred because Tarth had a more demanding program. That lie lasted two days before someone found out that she had was expelled... rumors said it was because she was caught in a compromising position with a teacher and everybody believed it, that rumor put her on top of the food chain.”

Years later Brienne would find out that Margaery Tyrell was kicked out because her father tried to pay off a teacher not to fail her on a class and the teacher reported him. But that story wasn’t the kind of drama the kids from the small island of Tarth thirsted over, the truth would have set Margaery in the middle of the food chain, and Tyrells were never average. 

“She walked into the school on the first day of classes as if she owned the place, short skirt, perfect makeup, went straight to the captain of the sailing team and kissed him square on the mouth, they crowned her queen the second her lips left his.”

She paused for a moment, thinking that if Jaime Lannister had gone to her high school, it might have been him who Margaery kissed, him who Margaery would have set her target on to establish her superiority. But that was nonsense because even if they had attended the same high school, he was older than them, their paths would have never crossed.

“I never expected to be friends with her, but she smiled at me on the second day of school, and I thought maybe, just maybe my luck had changed. I honestly don’t know what I ever did to her; maybe I didn’t laugh at one of her jokes, maybe it was that I overheard something I shouldn’t have while in the bathroom…" Brienne said and paused to let out a defeated sigh. "I was minding my own business, getting dressed as fast as I could while keeping my head down after gym class. Margaery Tyrell was standing in her underwear next to me, she told me to look up, and I did, and then she made a joke about me blushing because I liked her, she said she was flattered, but she had a boyfriend. You can imagine the wave of rumors that started afterward…”

She felt the cold glass of the bottle touch her arm and sat up to take a swing, judging by the weight of the bottle, Jaime had already had a few helpings for himself. She sat down and moved closer to him, the cold air taking away her words, a weight lifted off her shoulders. She had never shared that with anyone before, it felt so good to finally let it go. Brienne put down the bottle between them and started playing with the sand until she felt his fingers lacing with hers. She turned to look at him, his jaw clenched closed, a hard look on his eyes, it was a bit strange to see him so serious when it was just the two of them, and for a second she feared that maybe she had shared too much.

“What’s wrong?”, she asked softly, almost afraid.

“I would have been one of those jerks,” he said in a deadly quiet tone, so harsh that it made a shiver run down her spine, “I would have torn you to pieces without a second thought.”

“Probably,” Brienne said after a few minutes of silence, and Jaime turned to look at her, a hurt look in his slightly glassy eyes, “But you wouldn’t now. You’re not the same guy you were in high school, and I’m not the same girl I was back then. Today I faced one of my biggest fears going back to that place… I can finally let go of it, and believe me, seeing you brush off Margaery Tyrell for me was just the cherry on top.” 

Brienne moved the bottle from between them and leaned into him, one hand running through his hair while the other one brushed against his jaw, a big smile on her face to prove that she truly meant every word she said. It took him a minute to get over the turmoil he was feeling, but then the anger left his eyes, he left a soft sigh out and smiled softly at her.

“Fuck Margaery Tyrell,” he said and kissed her lips softly, almost chastely.

“Come on, we can go make out on my bed, and I can make my thirteen-year-old self dream come true,” Brienne said as she pulled his hand to have him stand up. 

“If your dad finds me in your bedroom he will kill me.” 

“Well,” Brienne said mischievously, “Isn’t the risk part of the rush?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, was this too easy for them? I think that they are in something of a honeymoon stage, their long distance relationship is still new so they are trying not to be bothered by the small things... You know, the longer people stay apart, the harder things tend to get. 
> 
> Anyway, next chapter is one of my favorites yet, I had my doubts when I started writing but I think it turned out pretty good... Any guesses on who will be our next guest?


	4. A Drink with the Captain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let me tell you a story, boy, but this remains between you and me," Captain Tarth said before taking a deep breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who here loves Brienne's dad?

Two days in Tarth, well, a day and a half, actually a half day and a morning, he really didn't know how but that was all he managed to squeeze into his schedule. This time he wasn't visiting the island to see his girlfriend, he was visiting because he had a meeting. The representatives of Morning Sun Bank, the leading financial institution on the island that also happened to belong to Stannis Baratheon had called him and asked for a meeting, saying that after many conversations with their owner, the CEO had made a point that they wanted to be a part of the networks of banks that worked with his app. It would come in handy, they said, once summer hit and the tourists started coming again. So he had agreed, partly because it was good business for him and party because otherwise, he wouldn't be seeing Brienne for another month or so.

Three weeks, that was how long it had been since they last saw each other and still, all he wanted was to get out of the airplane and find his wench, he wanted a hug and a kiss and to smell the vanilla scent of her skin. He wanted, overall, to have a cup of coffee in a diner or her kitchen table and listen to her talk. He wanted to hear what she had been up to, the excitement in her voice as she tried to vaguely describe the feeling of seeing something she had created in her head come alive. He wanted to lay back and take in her face, to give her a half smile and see the bluest eyes he had ever seen darken a little with desire. But that would have to wait because she was at work and he had a taxi waiting to take him to his meeting, they had talked about trying to squeeze in a quick lunch but nothing was said yet, and work was work.

Two and a half hours and a handshake later, Jaime pulled out his phone to check if he had any news from Brienne, it was already past noon, and the meager breakfast he had on the airport was long forgotten. A couple of men asked if he wanted to tag along, but he declined, waiting for his phone to turn on. The second he stepped into the lobby he felt the phone buzzing. 

_I'll make it up for you tonight, sorry._

Short and to the point, she must have written that in a hurry. Letting a sigh out and tried not to feel disappointed, Jaime pocketed the phone and hailed a taxi, if he wasn't having lunch with Brienne then he could at least check into his hotel, change his clothes and maybe walk around a little to kill some time. He fell in love with the island faster than he fell in love with Brienne; its blue ocean, the soft waves that broke near the shore, the pleasant breeze that made the heat much more bearable, the entire little town charade that hid perfectly well the amount of money that the island gained from tourism. Yes, he loved the small island of Tarth… in the summer. The island of Tarth in the winter, however, was a completely different experience. It was the definition of peace and quiet, with the locals going around minding their business, with those who visited not interested in a drink by the sea or the local cuisine. No, those visiting were business people like himself, and they only cared for good deals, good coffee, and a comfortable bed. 

_Make it up to me_ , Jaime thought bitterly as he walked from the hotel to the main square, he couldn't help but chuckle at the words.

There was a time in which the phrase 'make it up to you,' meant something else, something entirely different from Brienne's definition of making up for things. But that life seemed like a million years ago, the life of late nights out and a girl in each of his arms, the nights of drinking too much, of fighting hangovers while trying to focus on business meetings, the nights of partying on every single day of the week. He wasn't young enough to keep up with that life anymore, but it would be a lie to say he didn't miss at least some aspects of it, the physical element mostly, even when admitting it made him feel a bit guilty. He valued their relationship, he respected their relationship, and he respected her, but sometimes it was tiring, so tiring. Sometimes, when he was very tired or feeling lonely, he wished Brienne could be a little more trusting, that she could let her hair down and live a little. It would be a lie to say he didn't miss having a girl fall into his arms with just a half smile, that he didn't miss the times in which he didn't have to take himself in hand as often as he did now, that he didn't have to work extra hard to convince a girl that he wasn't lying when he called her beautiful. 

But then he thought of the first time they had sex and how different it had been from any other experience he had ever had. Brienne wasn't a woman playing the part of a shy girl who transformed into some sort of vixen in between the sheets, Brienne was Brienne, shy and awkward through and through, hers was no act, it was who she was. It had been a pleasurable experience, probably more for him than for her given how nervous and guarded she was, given how she barely let him touch her as much as he wanted and how embarrassingly little he lasted. And when it was over, when she was safely between his arms and breathing slowly and peacefully he had asked if she regretted it. There was a moment of silence in the room, the longest moment of his life, and then she said she didn't.

"Sex is just… something I need to get more comfortable with… I'm sorry if it wasn't good, I'm sorry if I wasn't good", she had mumbled shyly and hidden her face in the crook of his arm.

"If anyone should be apologizing it's me," he had told her trying to make her feel better, "Brienne… this wasn't…"

"No," she said softly, "I had that taken care of a long time ago."

He didn't dare ask more after that. He didn't dare ask how a girl who dreamed of romance had come to think of her virginity as something that needed to be taken care of; she was a romantic, even if she tried to hide it, and her words left a bitter taste in his mouth. After that he made sure to back off a little in the physical aspect, not wanting her to think that once they had been intimate, she'd have to agree to it again. After that first time others followed, nothing too wild, and definitely not very often, but each time things got a little bit better for both of them and maybe with time and a lot of patience they would someday reach the point in which he wasn't afraid to ask her for things, and she wasn't afraid of… well, whatever it was she was afraid of. 

Shaking his head to get rid of the thoughts troubling his mind, Jaime took a look around to appreciate the town. The small island, located in a vital point for trading routes even in the modern day and in a privileged spot for a quick summer vacation from the east side of Westeros, had convinced the world that time didn't pass through it. There were no chain restaurants in Tarth, everything was locally owned, the prices were more or less the same in the two coffee shops of town, the only difference was the decoration and the fact that when one closed, the other opened and vice versa. There were five bars and four restaurants, and a dinner that was mostly frequented by local folks who worked downtown. Around the main square, one could found a sept, the government offices, the library and the grocery store, a few blocks away was a book/video store, an old gym, and a few souvenir shops. Tarth was a place to fit all budgets, with little B&Bs that only worked during the busy summer months, a few hotels that welcomed both families and businessmen and then there was a brand new resort, top of the line everything, for those who wanted to go on a grand holiday. Jaime wondered for a minute if maybe he should start running numbers on how risky it would be to open a Roaring Coffee in Tarth, then they could really have their table, they could really pretend to still be in King's Landing. Not minding the name or look of the establishments, Jaime walked into the first bar he found, ready to get out of the cold and get some food in his belly. 

The last place he thought he'd bump into Captain Selwyn Tarth was a shady bar in the middle of the day, but there he was, taller than any other man in the room even when sitting, perfect posture and eyes glued to the television. Jaime considered sneaking out but decided against it, Brienne's father was a man he had yet to figure out, he seemed like a different man from who he had met for the first time a few months ago as if Jaime had done something to make the man dislike him. Jaime had voiced his concerns to Brienne briefly in his previous visit, but she had dismissed him, saying it was all in his head and that her ‘daddy' liked him well enough; well, Jaime was a bit scared of her ‘daddy' to be honest.

"Jaime," the clear voice of Selwyn Tarth called his name from the end of the room, and Jaime started walking towards him, "Care to join me for lunch?"

A waitress appeared out of thin air the second Jaime took a seat, she left a menu, and Jaime asked for a beer. They spent a few minutes in silence watching a random second division game on the many screens of the bar and then the waitress brought over Jaime's beer and took his order. As they waited for their food to arrive, Jaime took in the place. It was dark and smelled a bit like smoke, clearly a sports bar, the kind of place where men went to after work or when they were looking for girls or trouble. The place made the Hound's Bar look like an exclusive establishment, but then again, the Hound's bar could be located in a seedy part of town but was a great spot for beers and drinks with friends. There must have been about four tables busy, sixteen patrons all together, a waitress was polishing silverware seated in a booth while the other took care of the customers, and behind the bar stood a man, squared and with light red hair, a bushy beard covered his face, a bored look in his eyes.

Their orders were brought together, making Jaime think that Captain Tarth had arrived at the place only a few minutes before him. The food was good and warm, well seasoned and his salmon perfectly cooked, there wasn't much room for conversation in between bites and comments of the soccer game going on but contrary to what Jaime thought, lunch was turning out to be quite pleasant, much more pleasant than their last dinner with Brienne at Evenfall Hall. Captain Tarth asked for a second beer, and Jaime followed his lead, feeling more relaxed with every passing minute, remembering how much easier it had been talking to the man when they had gone sailing during his first visit.

_It might be all in your head_ , Jaime thought as he cut into his food, _maybe without Brienne around you don't feel like he is waiting for you to make a mistake._

"Brienne told me you're only here for a short time," Captain Tarth said as he pushed away his plate.

"I'm actually here on business, I managed to switch my flight from this afternoon to tomorrow to try and see her a little while."

"How's work?"

"Good, sir, busy but busy is good."

Jaime knew from Brienne that her father owned part of the island, most specifically, the piers and docks, which meant that Selwyn spent his days sailing or checking that any products coming in or going out followed the correct procedures. He also knew that Selwyn loved machines: cars, boats, motorcycles, anything with an engine really, and so, the man spent his days off working with Goodwin or fixing up old boats to later take to the ocean. He was about to ask about the last boat Selwyn had been working on a few months ago when he noticed the captain's eyes following the redhead bartender, a hard look taking over blue eyes that were paler than Brienne's as said bartender smiled at some young businesswoman, Jaime could smell those out from miles apart.

"That man," Captain Tarth said and nodded towards the bartender, "was the first man to ever knock on my door to take my daughter on a date."

Jaime fell silent, not knowing exactly what to make out of the words he had just heard, but most importantly, of the tone that had been used.

"Ronnet Connington, bloody bastard," the captain said before drinking his beer.

_Ronnet Connington, Ron Connington, where have I heard that name before._

The confusion must have been evident on his face because when Selwyn Tarth turned to look at him, Jaime could see the smallest spark of camaraderie.

_Nothing like hating on the same bastard to bring men together_ , he thought.

"Another round?" Jaime asked in an attempt to solidify the feeling and maybe, just maybe, get some more information about the barkeep. Captain Tarth hesitated for a second, checking the time before nodding and Jaime asked for two more drinks with a quick smile in the waitresses' direction. 

"Has she told you about him?" Selwyn asked when the waitress dropped off their beers.

"His name sounds familiar, but I can't exactly place where I've heard it before."

"Let me tell you a story, boy, but this remains between you and me," Captain Tarth said before taking a deep breath.

Ronnet Connington, as it turned out, was a world-class bastard. He was the reason why Selwyn Tarth seemed to have such a hard time liking Jaime, he was also the first milestone on what would later be the disastrous love life of Brienne Tarth, the first man to give her a reason to distrust all men; that fucking bastard. 

A few years older than Brienne, already going to some mediocre community college and he singled her out because she seemed like an easy target. Back in those days, Brienne spent her afternoons in the library, doing her homework and staying out of trouble like a good girl, and that was when Ron Connington saw her for the first time. A tall girl for her age, not very pretty and not very outgoing but Ron knew who she was, and most importantly, how her father and godfather were. So he did his homework, only that it didn't involve any books or papers. He started bumping into her in the library, waving from a distance, making small talk, and when she started feeling more comfortable around him, they sat together, and he took her out for sodas and milkshakes, every single play being executed perfectly.

He worked on her for a couple of months and then he went for the kill. He asked her out on a date, saying that they'd go wherever she wanted to go, they'd do whatever she wanted to do, he would pick her up from home and drop her off by the end of the night. And what fifteen-year-old girl wouldn't want that? After all, he was an older boy paying attention to her, listening as she talked about literature and fiction, laughing at her nerdy jokes and acting gallantly, asking for permission to hold her hand. So Brienne said yes, she asked her father for a little extra money to get some new clothes, presented the idea of Ron Connington as a good lad, a respectful lad. And she was so happy about the idea of going on a date, her first real date when all the other girls in school had started dating years ago, that Selwyn Tarth couldn't deny her. 

"I think that night I realized that my little girl was no longer a girl, but a young woman." Selwyn said with a distant look in his eyes, "She came down the stairs wearing perfume, a small handbag on her hand, her hair brushed and makeup on her face, probably not applied correctly, who knows where she got it. I blinked, and she was no longer six years old, you have no idea how that felt." 

Jaime certainly didn't, but he could imagine, he could picture a younger Selwyn Tarth looking at his daughter and wondering when she grew up. Sadly, all the images he managed to conjure were an imitation of movie scenes and TV shows, their father had never looked twice at the many boys who paraded their door when taking Cersei out on dates.

"She had her first kiss that night," Selwyn continued, and Jaime's throat clenched. "She was so excited that she walked into my study, sat down and started babbling about it. I did not want to hear it. Believe me, I did not want to hear about my little girl kissing a boy, but with her mother gone I was glad she felt like she could trust me, so I sat there and listened while I counted the many ways in which I could murder that pimply excuse of a man." 

Young Brienne fancied herself in love; naïve and lonely, she thought Ron Connington to be the knight in shining armor she had read about in fairy tales. Then word caught up in school that sophomore Plain Brienne was dating someone and suddenly she was more interesting, things started getting better, maybe that was when she learned that the higher you rose, the longer the fall.

"I don't exactly remember the first time I got my heart broken," Selwyn said with the saddest expression Jaime had ever seen in a grown man, "But I remember the night my girl got her heart broken for the first time."

Ron Connington never defined their relationship, he never called Brienne his girlfriend, and he didn't allow her to refer to him as her boyfriend; they were ‘dating,' he told her, and dating was different for college boy than for high school girls. So she allowed it, she didn't ask for anything and gave everything she had; she waited patiently by the phone for calls that never came through, she learned to run out the door at the sound of a honk going off, she learned not to wear high heels because she was already as tall as Ron and he didn't like being dwarfed by a girl. Selwyn hated every last part of that weird relationship, he saw through that fake courtesy of knocking on the door for their first date, he saw through the boy's excuses not to come in for dinner, not to be left alone in a room with Brienne's father. But he was afraid to say something, afraid to lose his daughter's trust and push her right into that man's arms, in the end, he didn't have to wait too long for Brienne to see Ron for who he really was.

On the last day of winter break, Ron picked Brienne up and took her out for some hot chocolate at the diner, in a place as small as Tarth where everything is dead in the winter, the diner was the place where all the cool kids hang out. Heads turned the second she walked in, but she thought that with Ron by her side she was safe, how mistaken she was. They sat in a corner booth, side by side, and ordered their drinks, he played it very well, placing his arm around her shoulders, waiting until the place was busting with people before turning around with a smile. He gave her a sorry story about not being able to pay for school the next semester, said he needed a job urgently, brushed her cheek with his thumb and asked if she could ask her dad or godfather to open up a spot for her. And then it clicked, it all clicked in her mind, the way he was looking at her with bored eyes, the way he had never asked her to be his girlfriend, how every time they saw her father he treated her differently than when they were alone. She realized she was just a way to get a job in an island where good jobs were hard to come across but once you got one, you pretty much secured it for the rest of your life. 

She denied him, for the first time since they started talking she said no to him, and he pulled away from her as if her touch burned. But that wasn't enough, it wasn't enough to break her heart, he had to go and humiliate her too, raising his voice, calling her a tease, saying he was done with charity. The entire restaurant turned to look at them, the place dead quiet as Ron Connington spit insult after insult, lie after lie.

"Bee never told me, I think she was afraid of what I would do, but this is a small town and word travels fast. Instead of lying and saying they had slept together, he said loud and clear that no matter how much she begged, he wouldn't sleep with her even if she was the last woman on earth."

Jaime's hand had clenched into a fist at some point, when, he didn't know, but he was about to stand up and go set a few things straight with Ron Connington when Selwyn's hand stilled him in his seat. One look into the pale blue eyes of Brienne's father was all it took for Jaime to remain seated.

"He left the diner then, stood her up with the bill and to sort out how to get home… she came in tears late that night, climbed into my bed as if she were five and not fifteen and told me everything." Selwyn finished his beer and signaled the waitress for the check, "This place belonged to his father, that's the only reason he has a job. To this day that idiot crosses the street to avoid me… I like to come here sometimes to screw with him, Brienne doesn't know, of course, she would disapprove... but I'm her father, I'm allowed to terrorize whomever I feel I need to terrorize and believe me, boy, I get a rush every time that idiot looks down as I walk out those doors."

Jaime insisted on covering the bill and two hours after crossing the doors of the lousy bar, Ronnet Connington indeed looked the other way when Captain Tarth walked past the bar and Jaime pulled together all his self-control not to turn back and give that idiot a piece of his mind. The cold air made his blood cool down a little but his mind was still riled up, going back to the hotel would be a bad idea but roaming the streets would most likely end up with him walking back into that bar. So when Selwyn asked if he wanted to go to the garage and help him out with a boat engine, Jaime was more than happy to tag along. They walked towards Goodwin's shop in silence, Jaime processing all the information he had gained and Selwyn probably measuring him up. Jaime knew that story had held two purposes, the first one as an opportunity for Jaime to understand Brienne further, the second one was a clear threat, you messed with Brienne Tarth, and you'd have to deal with Selwyn Tarth until the end of your days.

In the end, Brienne wasn't able to get off for dinner either, she said something about a scene running long or a night scene that needed to be shot, he didn't understand well, and he didn't complain either. He took the chance to visit Ron once more, the place was slightly busier now, buzzing with conversation from patrons and the voice of whichever sports anchor was talking on the TV. This time he sat by the bar and asked for a glass of scotch, the redhead man tried to strike a conversation with him, but Jaime swiftly cut him off. For half an hour Jaime watched Ronnet, the way he moved, the big belly that bent the waist of his old jeans, the scruffy look on his face and lack of ring on his finger. Despite wanting to intimidate the man behind the counter, wanting to break a nose that seemed to have been broken before, Jaime simply pulled out a bill and paid for his drink, leaving the place behind and taking the long way to his hotel. 

Although he hadn't been able to see her, Jaime felt that his trip to Tarth had been a successful one, both personally and professionally. Not only had he closed a deal and learned more about Brienne, but he felt as if he had bonded a little more with Selwyn Tarth, they were not friends, not by any means, but they knew there was a shared interest, which was Brienne's happiness and that seemed to be okay for now. Stifling a yawn, Jaime checked the time, almost midnight, he turned off his computer and went to brush his teeth; he was about to climb in bed when there was a knock on his door. Confused, he walked towards it, not minding to check who it was before opening.

"Hey"

"Brienne" 

He felt like an idiot standing in the hallway wearing his pajamas and staring at his girlfriend. Still shocked, he moved aside and she smiled brightly at him before entering the room. He followed suit, closing and locking the door behind him, trying to get his mind in order.

"What are you…"

The words died on his mouth at the sight of her naked back, in the confusion he hadn't realized she had a bag with her, and out of said bag she seemed to be pulling out something that looked loose and comfortable, her pajamas maybe? But why would she be putting on her pajamas and why was she stopping by his room when it was that late. His brain clouded again as Brienne pulled down her pants, leaving him with a full sight of her bottom and endless legs.

_Gods, those legs_ , he thought and swallowed hard.

"So, I hope this is not much of an imposition, but I felt so bad about canceling lunch and then dinner… and I miss you so much, I thought that maybe we could spend some time together now?"

Blue eyes and long legs, that was all his brain was registering at the moment. Blue eyes that looked at him expectantly, long legs that he wanted to touch and tangle with his own. He knew she had said something, asked a question maybe, but at that moment he didn't care, Jaime took two steps and pulled her in his arms, claiming her lips with a kiss, running his hands through her hair, smelling that sweet vanilla scent that was so hers. She kissed him back, sturdy and hungry, only breaking apart when they both needed some air.

"What time do you have to go back?" he asked before starting a trail of kisses that went from her mouth down her neck.

"I was thinking about spending the night if it's okay with you… I could drop you off at the airport tomorrow morning… and I did say I had to make it up to you."

_Make it up to me_ , he thought with no bitterness this time and chuckled. 

"Your dad is going to hate me," Jaime said in between kisses, the strong hold of her fingers on his hair starting to make him feel dizzy, "I'm going to have to start crossing the street when I see him."

"What are you talking about?", Brienne asked and pulled his face away softly, a warm smile on her face, her eyes shining with amusement.

"Nothing," Jaime said with a smile, "Come on, it's late, let's get some sleep."

He could feel the even rise and fall of her chest against his side, the weight of her leg draped around him, the heat of her palm on his stomach. Jaime knew he should try to get some sleep, he had a busy day on Wednesday, meetings, and interviews and maybe dinner with someone, he couldn't remember, but he didn't want to sleep, not just yet. He wanted to memorize the feel of her body against his, the curve of her neck, the little sounds she made in her sleep; he wouldn't be able to get back to Tarth for a little over a month, that was what he had been checking on his computer earlier that night. He thought of his apartment back in King's Landing, of his enormous and empty bed, he wasn't wired for long distance relationships, he really wasn't, but to be able to hold her as he did right then he supposed he could make an effort.

 


	5. Childhood Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Don't you ever grow tired of having to be careful around me?" she asked before really thinking about it.

_Perhaps the gods are punishing me for blowing up a sept in my book_ , Brienne thought as she looked at the open shared calendar that was displayed on her computer screen. It had been Jaime's idea, well, he had actually sent her an invitation to see his, and she had then created a copy and merged it with hers. They used it to check dates before planning visits, Jaime's mostly since he said he liked getting away from the city, but sometimes they also used the calendar to send little messages, like the one wishing her a happy 1 year and 5 months anniversary. Her schedule was all clear, she could literally take one of her father's cars and drive to King's Landing or book the next flight to the city, but it would be in vain, because he wouldn't be there, and as much as she missed Sansa and Sandor and even Tyrion, she was not flying to the city just to be a third wheel or have a few drinks with friends if Jaime wasn't there.

She had been following the evolution of his project since its launch, it was hard not to notice, even when she wasn't very well read about the finance world. All the newspapers had published at least a note on how the app worked and why it made things easier, and really, it was strange how no one had thought about it before. Under the motto of ‘A Lannister always pays its debts', the app was a platform in which a friends could create a group, enter the information of who was paying for what and then the thing split how much each person owed the other, furthermore, if their bank accounts were linked to the app, they could press one button and transfer the amount in a second. Sounded dumb in the beginning but it was handy for young people traveling with friends on a budget when one would pay for the hotel, the other for lunch, another for beers and then it was time to pay up. Also, there was the catch that now everyone could use the famous words that defined the Lannisters, more than the official motto of Lannister Enterprises, which was ‘Hear me Roar.' She was proud of Jaime, having witnessed all the hard work he had invested in what started as a small project, but as pleased as she felt, she was also a bit jealous that this thing had her boyfriend traveling so much and she couldn't pay him a little surprise visit. 

"This just arrived for you." 

Brienne turned around to the sound of her father's voice coming from the door and smile when she saw the roses he held in his hands, white roses, not red, she hated red roses, would always hate red roses. She wanted to take in the arrangement, but she could only concentrate on the look on her father's face, Selwyn Tarth wasn't a warm man to those outside his family, and his family was just Brienne and Goodwin. He had always treated Jaime with respect, sometimes he was a little harsh, some others he tried to joke a little and Brienne knew that although Jaime wouldn't admit it, Selwyn wasn't exactly his favorite company in Tarth. But something had changed during Jaime's last visit, she had suspected it when Jaime suddenly stopped his heated kisses and just held her tight in bed. She suspected it when her father didn't ask where she was going so late and what time she'd be back, or how he didn't say a word when she got back in the morning wearing the same clothes as the night before. But now, judging by the way Selwyn debated between amusement and anger, Brienne was sure that something had gone on between her father and her boyfriend.

"How did he know?", Selwyn said apparently deciding on feeling amused, his voice soft and full of curiosity, "It's always red roses unless he knows you hate them."

"Trial an error," Brienne said with a soft smile.

"Maybe this one isn't that bad," Selwyn said and left the vase on her nightstand, "Your mother… I don't know if you remember, but she used to keep roses in the house during the day and out in the yard during the night, she believed they lasted longer that way."

Brienne turned off the computer and stared at the roses on her nightstand, taking them carefully in her hands, she brought them downstairs and into the garden, if her mother used to place flowers outside the house at night then she would do it too. She didn't remember much about her mother, she mostly knew her because of the pictures she found in the house and the odd stories her father told her or the times Goodwin mentioned her mother while telling a story of their younger years. Her mother was pretty, she could tell from the pictures she saw, and by how handsome her brother had been, she had taken after her father, at least physically. Sometimes she still wondered how her life would have been if her mother hadn't died. If her mother had lived, her father would have never hired septa Roelle, and that surely would have made a difference in her life.

Septa Roelle arrived in Tarth from Storm's End on a ferry, she remembered clearly how sunny it was that day, she remembered the pleasant sea breeze against her skin and the excitement she felt as they waited for the woman who her father had promised would be her friend. After much waiting, a young woman with long arms and thin legs that looked like pegs, flat brown hair and the ghost of a mustache on her upper lip made her way to where she and her father stood, despite being tall and strong for her age, Brienne tried to hide behind her father's legs. The relationship was doomed from the beginning, the woman shook hands with her father and then pulled Brienne roughly by the shoulder to take a better look at her. 

"The blotchiness is unbecoming, let's get this child out of the sun before it worsens," those were the first word Brienne ever heard come out of her septa's mouth, surprisingly, those were the kindest too. 

From septa Roelle, Brienne learned a number of lessons though not all of them stuck in the way her septa had meant. The first thing young Brienne learned was that she was too harsh for a girl and that while playing games with other kids she should not strive for victory, certainly not when competing against boys and more so when competing against girls.

_Boys are insecure, they don't want a girl being faster than them, stronger than them, braver or smarter than them_ , Brienne could still hear the voice of her septa in her head, the scolding behind it as the woman looked down at her in her soiled dress and scraps on her knees. 

_Girls shouldn't be aggressive, look at the other little girls playing tea, try to be more like them, and maybe they will let you tag along._

At six years old, Brienne wasn't familiar with the concept of loneliness, she was not familiar with the idea of being left out, in her mind, sometimes kids wanted to play with her, and sometimes they didn't, and that was fine, because sometimes she didn't feel like playing with others either. Still, thinking that all grown-ups knew better, Brienne decided to do as she was told, she declined invitations to race and instead sat with the other little girls of her class, even when she found playing with dolls boring. And when was challenged to a race, she made sure to come in second or third, thinking that maybe boys did have it harder. Then, about two weeks later, Brienne learned the concept of exclusion. The girls stopped asking her to play with them, they even went as far as switching up their spot in the playground to avoid her, and the boys no longer saw her as a worthy contestant, so they didn't want her in any teams with them. Suddenly, recess wasn't so fun anymore because no matter how much she liked reading by herself on occasion, she felt like she was missing out on something when she heard her classmates' laughter, and she didn't know what it was about.

The second lesson Brienne learned from her septa, a lesson that would stick with her until the night in which she would dare to put on a blue dress and feel pretty in it, was that some clothes were not meant for girls like her. She happened to learn that lesson on her thirteenth name day.

Her father had given her a debit card with more than enough money for her to renew her guard robe, he had kissed her forehead and told her to get something nice, something she liked because she was now a young girl and too old for her father to pick up her clothes. They had laughed at her dad's joke, Selwyn had long ago stopped picking clothes for her. Goodwin was waiting for them in the kitchen with stacks of pancakes and a jug of freshly pressed orange juice, even Septa Roelle had wished her a happy name day and announced that the shopping trip would take place later that afternoon, once Brienne was done with her homework. Around three in the afternoon, Brienne had proudly announced she was done with homework, and they had taken her father's car to the mall. Despite the cold relationship that Brienne had with her septa, in her thirteen-year-old mind there was only one possible outcome to their mall adventure: they would become best friends, and she would find the perfect outfit that would make the boys turn her way and wonder where had she been hiding all along. The reality of the trip, however, was so far off that Brienne might have as well wished for snow in the summer.

They entered the first store and Brienne fell in love with a pair of shorts, summers in Tarth could be very warm and back then, they seemed to go on forever; excited, she picked up a pair and started looking for her size only to feel the eyes of her septa burning a hole in her neck. Too short, her septa had said, you don't want to give the wrong impression now that you are a young woman. And Brienne didn't want to give the wrong impression, so she put the shorts back and continued wandering around, but there really wasn't anything else she loved, anything she just needed to have like she had felt when seeing those shorts. Trying not to feel discouraged, they went to another store, a favorite brand among the girls in her class, taking a deep breath and focusing on staying positive, Brienne started browsing. The sweet thing about being thirteen, though, was that one minute your world could be crumbling down because of a pair of jeans, but the moment you found a cute top, you completely forgot about everything else. Making sure it was the right length and didn't have much cleavage, not that she had much to show yet, Brienne picked up piece after piece, filling a mesh bag that an employee had so helpfully handed to them. Once the big bag felt heavy enough, Brienne made her way to the fitting rooms and started putting on the outfits she had styled in her mind. She looked herself in the mirror, feeling older, thinking she didn't look thirteen and proud of it, and then stepped into the hall where septa Roelle was waiting. The ever-present scowl on the woman's face deepened.

_Your skin is too pale for that color, Miss Tarth, and your back too broad for that top. The jeans look okay, it is a good thing you don't have much of a bottom. By the Seven, you have so many freckles, have you been using that sunscreen your father got you?_  

When the third outfit she tried on got more and more criticism, Brienne asked what was wrong with the things she had picked, septa Roelle turned to look at her and very plainly said that nothing was wrong with the clothes, just that they weren't made with girls like her in mind, so that was why they didn't fit well. Thinking back to that day, Brienne should have known better than to take fashion advice from a woman that wore grey skirts below the knee and white button-down shirts seemingly every day of her life. But fashion wasn't the only apparent area of expertise for which her septa had solid advice, no, the way septa Roelle was trained back on the mainland included advice on boys and the way proper ladies needed to act not to smudge their family name. Septa Roelle was the only one to voice her concerns about Ronnet Connington, though she did it with little tact and a pinch of disdain.

_Listen to me child,_ her septa had said while drinking a cup of coffee as bitter as her soul, _that boy wants something from you, any boy who comes up to you will want something from you. Don't believe their sweet words and their dead flowers, take a look in the mirror, look at your face, your nose, your body, and then compare what you see with what they say. At least there is something between those ears, trust your brain, not your heart._

Brienne didn't believe her at first, either because she was rebelling or because she feared that her words were right, but by the end of winter break, as she walked back home alone in the cold, humiliated and feeling used, those were the only words ringing in her head. If Ron Connington marked a before and an after in Brienne's love life, septa Roelle's words were the fundaments for Brienne's ten commandments for living and trusting, and only ten years later would she start rewriting all ten of those dumb commandments. Taking one more look at the roses, white, never red, never red roses again, Brienne let a sigh out, she was home, but somehow she still didn't feel whole.

* * *

Spotting him in Tarth's little airport was very easy to do, she only had to look for an elegant traveller with a leather banged up bag in hand and that'd be him, no matter if he slept or not, no matter if it was a twenty hour flight or a quick hour and forty-five minutes affair, Jaime Lannister always got off the plane looking good. Well, maybe she was a little biased; perhaps distance did make the heart grow fonder. When she caught his eye there was a sour look on his face, he shot a half smile her way, and then his eyes went back to the phone in his hand, chuckling, Brienne walked to him.

"Well don't you look happy to be here!" Brienne teased as she planted a soft kiss on his cheek and her lips brushed the rough stubble already growing.

_That's not a fashion statement, she thought as she pulled away, that is him not having time to shave._

"Sorry, the idiots at the hotel seem to have lost my reservation," he mumbled under his breath and continued walking towards the exit.

"They didn't, I canceled it."

"And why, my dear wench, would you do that?" Jaime asked half annoyed and half amused as he pocketed his phone and threw his arm around her shoulders.

"Because I was never allowed to have boys over when my dad was out of town."

She felt like a fifteen-year-old girl asking her crush to come over because her parents weren't home, and other than the fact that she was twenty-seven and not a teenager, that was precisely what she was doing. Her father had told her the previous morning that something had come up and he needed to travel to Storm's End for the rest of the week, it was just a matter of minutes before she picked up the phone and canceled Jaime's reservation. Once her father left, Brienne called Nina, who used to be their housekeeper until Brienne left for college and now only went to the house twice a week, and told her that she could take the rest of the week off. Nina had laughed and asked why the need to have the house all to herself and Brienne had mumbled and blushed, her old nanny certainly knew that she was having a boy over. Brienne turned to look at Jaime, fighting the need to blush, trying to pretend that she was completely cool with having another sleepover, but when she saw the wolfish grin on his face, a promise of mischief and good times to come, she couldn't help but blush deeper. No, she wasn't a fifteen-year-old girl anymore, and that was great because fifteen-year-old Brienne would have never had a boy like Jaime Lannister willing to spend the night in her house.

The plan was simple enough, go to town, stop by the grocery store and stock up on whatever they might need for the night and next morning and then go home, it was plain and to the point, so of course it didn't go down smoothly. Their first obstacle was an unusual amount of traffic, even for a Friday night, just a few miles from the airport they came to a complete standstill that lasted for over fifteen minutes, the reason, she learned through the radio, was that a deer had decided to give birth in the middle of the road, things that only happened on Tarth, of course. Their second inconvenience ended up being Brienne's fault because she hadn't checked the amount of gas left in the tank and after moving past the standstill, a light went off and urged her to stop by the gas station, another place that seemed to be crowded on a Friday night. Finally, almost an hour later, they managed to find a spot near the grocery store and got out of the car, lucky for her, Jaime seemed to be taking her frustrations as something funny.

"What are you feeding me tonight, wench? I'm getting hungry, and you know how I get when my blood sugar runs low", he teased and leaned on the cart.

_The perfect image of innocence and domesticity,_ Brienne thought as she looked over her shoulder.

"Pasta?" she said as she pulled a few boxes of spaghetti from a shelf and tried to remember what veggies she had back home.

"And will that be the only thing quick and easy for tonight?"

She would always be surprised by how gracefully he moved, how silent he could be despite his height and build. One minute he was leaning on the cart and the next minute he had his arms wrapped around her and was nuzzling her neck, making her feel all sorts of things her septa had taught her were indecent, all sort of thing she should not be feeling in the pasta aisle of the supermarket. But she didn't care, because once more she could feel his scent around her and knew that when they parted, she would smell traces of his perfume in her hair and clothes and she loved smelling like him. Soon she got too caught up in the feel of his warm hands slowly trying to sneak under her shirt, in the way his lips had found her neck and how Jaime seemed to be enjoying putting up a show in middle of the only grocery store in town until she heard a cough, loud and clear, coming from her right.

"Excuse me!"

Brienne froze the second she registered that voice, it wasn't a voice she would be likely to forget, not when she had heard it every single day since from the age of six until she left for college. Pushing Jaime aside, she untangled herself from him and turned to look at septa Roelle.

"Miss Tarth!", her old septa said, and Brienne felt like a six-year-old girl getting scolded for scrapping her knees.

The lady before her looked precisely the same as the last time Brienne saw her, maybe a few more grey hairs on her head and a more evident mustache, but there was no doubt it was septa Roelle, down to the same long grey skirts and white button downs.

"Septa Roelle," she mumbled, feeling oddly small.

There was a moment of silence as both women took in one another, septa Roelle with a very disapprobatory look in her eyes; Brienne very still, every muscle in her body tense and fighting the urge to stare at the floor. Feeling a shiver run down her spine, Brienne tried to take a step back, she opened her mouth to apologize when she really wanted to yell at the woman who shattered her dreams of being the damsel of any story. But just as the words were about to leave her mouth, she felt Jaime's hand squeeze her hip.

"Sweetheart, are you cold?" he asked in an overly sweet voice, "Here, have my sweater."

It took her a moment too long to understand his words, but when she finally did, it was too late to say anything. Jaime pulled up his sweater almost in slow motion, the t-shirt he wore under it stuck and rose all the way to the middle of his chest, showing Brienne and her septa a full display of his taut stomach, his chiseled abs and the faint trail of hair that went down from his bellybutton and disappeared under the waistline of his boxers. Brienne felt warm and turned to look at her septa, and that was when she got it, Jaime didn't think she was cold, he was having a laugh at her septa's expense. Brienne smiled then, fighting off the urge to tell septa Roelle that the blotchiness on her face due to the blushing was very unbecoming.

"Thanks, Jaime, please, allow me to introduce you to septa Roelle."

"A pleasure to meet you, septa," Jaime said with a Cheshire cat smile and septa Roelle hardened her eyes as if condemning him to all seven hells. "Bee, I'm going to get the wine."

He made a point to kiss her cheek and squeeze her arm before walking away, and for a moment Brienne thought that she had won, she had never before seen septa Roelle blush, never seen her fall speechless before a man. But her victory didn't last for long, because when Brienne finally tore her eyes away from Jaime, her septa was again giving her that stern look that she was so familiar with. The winning smile fell off her face, her heart rate quickened for all the wrong reasons, and instead of making up an excuse and walking away, Brienne just stood there, waiting for more cruel words to come. 

"That is a good looking man, Miss Tarth," her septa said sternly, "Make sure you remember to look yourself in the mirror every so often."

Brienne wanted to tell her the septa that she was wrong, that Jaime Lannister did not want or need anything from her, he was not Ronnet Connington, he was not Hyle Hunt… but then again, when she had been with Tormund, he apparently didn't need or want anything from her. Tormund never asked for information on her books, he didn't try to make her dress in gowns and heels, but he wanted something from her all the same, wanted her to be who he wanted her to be, a warrior woman thought as nails. Tormund valued her strength and her walls, but he never saw through them. With him, Brienne couldn't show much vulnerability because he thought of it as weakness. If she had ever told Tormund that all she wanted was to feel pretty in a dress, he would have laughed it off and say she didn't need a dress to look hot. But she hadn't need to tell Jaime that she wanted to look pretty, he had taken one look at her and called her beautiful, and that was way long before she ever agreed to sleep with him, and he continued to tell her so. Still, as septa Roelle walked away, Brienne felt that something in her had torn open again. Her old insecurities maybe, the ever-present distrust for men that had been her companion for over twenty years of life.

Jaime must have noticed that something was wrong when he got back to her but he didn't say anything, and for once, she appreciated it. He offered to drive back home, and she agreed, the ride was short but silent, nothing like how like things were before the encounter with septa Roelle. Brienne made dinner in silence as Jaime tiptoed around her, he poured her a glass of wine and kissed her temple, leaving her alone for a few minutes while she chopped some veggies for the salad. He offered to do the dishes after dinner and poured her a third glass of wine without even asking, she took it gladly. Once Brienne heard the water running in the kitchen, she picked up her glass and walked up the stairs to her bedroom. 

_Make sure you remember to look yourself in the mirror every so often_. Her septa's words rang over and over in her mind. 

Standing in the middle of her bedroom, staring at her reflection as she had done over ten years ago, Brienne thought of her septa's words.

_Take a look in the mirror, look at your face, your nose, your body, and then compare what you see with what they say._ Over ten years later she could still remember word by word the cruel advice that had helped shape her into who she was.

The last time she stopped to really look at herself she was probably nineteen, after the Hyle Hunt incident, now, at twenty-seven, she was finally willing to look at herself again and what she saw now wasn't much different from what she saw then. She saw a plain woman with broad shoulders, too broad for open back tops or fitted shirts, a face with a crooked nose and a thousand freckles, she saw dry straw-like hair that would remain the same no matter the number of treatments she applied. She saw thick arms from years of boxing, thicker legs from years of kicking and swimming, a plain ass that was barely there even in tight yoga pants, a chest that hardly showed any breasts. 

"Hey," she turned to look at Jaime who was leaning on the doorframe looking concerned, "What's wrong?"

"Don't you ever grow tired of having to be careful around me?" she asked before really thinking about it, "Careful of what you say, how you treat me, how you touch me… This can't be easy for you, it's certainly not easy for me."

"Sometimes," he admitted but she somehow found his honesty reassuring, "It's getting better, now you only doubt me half of the times I call you beautiful," he added with a smile.

"There was a time in which I wasn't that distrustful of men, you know? When I thought all men were as noble as my father…"

"Before Connington?" he asked, and she wondered where he had heard about Ronnet; she had might have mentioned him before but the way Jaime said his name was a clear give away that he knew more than she thought he did.

"Before him, before Hyle and that stupid bet… Before my septa told me to compare what I saw in the mirror with the sweet words that men said to me."

"Well, what have I told you about men and me?"

"That there aren't any men like you, there's only you," she said shyly, feeling like now it was him who was schooling her instead of her septa.

"You know, I recently found out that there's more to women than just pretty faces," he whispered in her hear, and she could feel the smile on his face. "Who would have known, right? And you, Brienne, you are so much more than your looks... though those legs and those eyes have sure visited me in dreams on many lonely nights."

She smiled at him, and a second later his lips were on hers as if that smile had been the silent permission he had been seeking from her before making his move. His lips were soft and taste of wine, his tongue started running against her lower lip, and she was only too happy to oblige and grant him access. What started as a soft kiss quickly turned into a more heated one, either out of desire or because she wanted to spite the demons in her head, Brienne didn't care, and judging by his reaction, neither did Jaime. For the second time in her life she was making out with a boy in her bedroom, and it felt good, almost too good to be true. Brienne opened her eyes when they broke apart gasping for air, she saw the way he was smiling, the way his eyes were darkened too. Before he was able to say a word, her lips were on his again, and she was using that strength that was oh so unbecoming in a lady to push him back on her bed, being careful not to crush him when they fell against the mattress. Heated kisses gave place to hands wandering, hers going to his hair and under his shirt, feeling the muscles in his back as he turned them so that he could be on top; his cupping her cheek while the other one went under her shirt and brushed her ribs.

"Septa Roelle almost had a heart attack when she saw you taking off your sweater," Brienne said as she looked hungrily at Jaime taking off his shirt.

_He looks like the Warrior_ , she thought as she saw the tense muscles in his chest.

Jaime chuckled and then growled when Brienne reached out to him and ran her fingernails across his chest, allowing her to slowly torture him. She could feel the heat coming from his body; she could feel the desire building in hers too.

"She wasn't the only one staring, from what I gathered," Jaime said as he lowered himself on top of her.

"No, she wasn't the only one staring," Brienne agreed and claimed his lips, "Tell me what you see?" she pleaded in a whisper.

"You, Brienne," he said softly as he kissed her lips and neck, "I see you, all of you."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, lately I don't know if I'm finding it harder to write in general or if I've hit a wall with this story, I'm trying to work through it, I really am, but maybe I've just lost interest of feel like you guys have lost interest... Anyway, I have most of next chapter down and will try to move forward.


	6. Fit for a King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Take me home, Lannister."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, this is the last chapter I had written (late update because I had to edit it), I'm really struggling with the next one so there's a chance I might not update on Sunday, sorry!

When Sansa called and asked her if she would be interested in going to the official launch of the Reading with Wolves project, a nonprofit organization and she and her siblings were starting to make sure all schools in King's Landing had reading material for kids of all ages, Brienne instantly agreed. Sansa had gone on to tell Brienne that they should keep her visit to the capital a secret, that it would be fun to surprise Jaime during the event, to have her casually bump into him as he left the stage after receiving the plaque the Starks would be presenting to him. That was how Brienne found out that Jaime had gone and pulled a Lannister move on Margaery Tyrell. And while she had been taught not to gloat on another person's misfortune, the fact that it was Margaery Tyrell who had finally lost something to her, made Brienne agree to all and any plans Sansa might have for the night.

It turned out that Jaime Lannister was not one to let go of grudges, even if they weren't his to hold on to in the first place. Two months ago, Sansa had bumped into Jaime and Tyrion while the brothers shared their usual drink over at the Hound's bar, not surprising anybody, they had asked her to join them. There was small talk and a bit of teasing the not so new couple, and then Tyrion asked Sansa how she was doing, and the girl vented out all her problems. Sansa mentioned how they visited a school in a different part of Flea Bottom for a children's reading and how deplorable the state of the library was, with all of them but Sandor being private school alumni, they just couldn't understand how something as vital as a library was so unattended. Once Sansa and the Lannisters stopped whining, Sandor had told them that at least that school still had books and shared more about the unglamorous reality of public education. That was when Sansa said she wished she could do something, that was also when Jaime Lannister offered to grant her half of the donations that Lannister Enterprises destined to charity if Sansa ever started something. Sansa had been shocked to hear those words, shocked and excited, and then guilty, she couldn't take away from another charity, that wouldn't be right; Jaime had smiled at her and said that other charity could undoubtedly do without their money, they were Tyrells after all.

The moment she got off the phone with Sansa, Brienne went online and booked her ticket, she couldn't exactly stay for the weekend because Goodwin's name day was on Sunday and she had missed too many already, but she could fly in on Friday afternoon, get ready with Sansa, go to the event and then, for the first time in four months, spend their anniversary date with Jaime, it wasn't every day that they made it to the eighteen month mark after all. And it was that eighteen-month celebration was on her mind as she got her bags ready on Friday morning, as she looked into her dresser and picked up clean pajamas, underwear, jeans and sneakers, her favorite pair of heels, makeup bag… and that red dress.

Brienne made her way to King's Landing, smiled and hugged Sansa when they met on the arrivals section of the airport. She relaxed and laughed when they went out for lunch on their way back into the city, the conversation easy with both of them having so many things to share, personally and professionally, and Brienne realized that she had missed her friend dearly. When Sansa started sharing what her siblings were up to and that they would be attending the event that night, Brienne realized how much she had missed Bran, Arya, Rickon and even Jon, despite his serious and brooding attitude. When Sansa said they better get going after finishing lunch, Brienne thought that it was still too early to get ready, but maybe with all her siblings at home, they would need to take turns with showers and the likes. The sight of Sansa's usually tidy living room turned almost upside down was slightly amusing, she could see bags with dark suits and what she thought was Arya's dressed draped over couches and an inflatable mattress on a corner of the living room, but the place was too quiet to be harboring four siblings.

"You can shower in the guest room, I'll call Arya and ask where she is, Shae should be here soon," Sansa said as she threw her purse on the kitchen table. 

"Shae?" Brienne asked, "Who is she and where are the guys?"

"Shae is my miracle maker, the boys will be here around five, those stinkers only need to shower and put their suits on, we take much longer to get ready. Oh, put this robe on when you're done, no need to get dressed yet."

It turned out that Shae was indeed a miracle maker, though her miracles did not come pain-free. A girl from the Free Cities, probably older than Sansa but younger than Brienne, Shae was petite and beautiful, and she came carrying an arsenal of beauty products and instruments. When Sansa asked Brienne if she wanted to go first for the waxing, Brienne paled down, she shaved, most times, and waxing sounded painful, but then Arya Stark had called Brienne a coward and Brienne just had to prove the little girl wrong. She didn't entirely end up winning that argument, because the hot wax felt first uncomfortable and then lovely against her skin but when it was pulled away, she cursed the seven, the red god, the drowned god and the old gods too. But painful as it had been, the procedure had left her skin feeling soft, and she was guaranteed that the hair would take longer to grow. After waxing came getting her hair and finally, the makeup.

Brienne had never really been to a sleepover before meeting the Starks, but surrounded by girls and wearing a robe, she felt like she was in the middle of a movie. She shouldn't have been so surprised when Arya started talking about girly things, though Arya's definition of girl talk made Brienne blush and feel flustered. The younger girl made a point to ask Sansa if she had changed the bedsheets as she had previously requested. Arya told her older sister that there was no way in hell she was sleeping in that bed unless Sansa swore that the sheets were immaculate, and Sansa just laughed it off and said that of course they were clean sheets. It clicked right then, not only what Arya was referring to, but that under Sansa's kind invitation, it would mean that all three of them would have to share, and she just couldn't impose like that.

"Don't even think about saying you can stay at a hotel," Sansa said when Brienne's eyes grew bigger.

"Yeah Brienne, if I, Sansa and the Hound can fit in that bed, the three of us can certainly fit too," Arya said in between looks at her phone, "Plus, I doubt you'll be coming home with us tonight anyway."

Brienne looked at both girls with a question in the tip of her tongue but decided not to make a big deal out of it, knowing Arya, she must have drunkenly climbed in bed with her sister and Clegane. The picture itself was funny, and Brienne wondered how well did Sandor Clegane get along with the rest of the Starks, if they had welcomed him into their pack or if he was being treated like an outsider. Out of the corner of her eye, Brienne could clearly see a stack of dark clothes in between the lighter colors that Sansa used, clean laundry ready to be put away, laundry that undoubtedly belonged to Sandor, and that made Brienne smile.

"Arya can be such a brat," Sansa said with a chuckle when Arya left the room to take a phone call, "She thinks she's doing such a good job at hiding the fact that she's totally talking to a boy, but she's not fooling anyone. I heard her saying quite an interesting stream of things to whoever it was she was talking to last night."

"Well, if your sister lives every aspect of her life as an adventure…", Brienne tried to say without blushing, discussing Arya Stark's sex life was not something she felt very comfortable doing, hells, she wasn't even comfortable discussing her own sex life.

"A little adventure never hurt anyone," Sansa said softly, a soft pink color rising to her cheeks. 

_Of course, she blushes prettily_ , Brienne thought and tried not to smile.

"It is actually proven to be beneficial to spice things up in the bedroom sometimes, as long as both parts feel comfortable…", Sansa started rambling, and Brienne couldn't hold back her laughter because Sansa Stark never stuttered.

"Really!" the younger girl said, "I had Sandor eating from my hand for weeks after I took charge of things in the bedroom for a change, oh my god, Sandor is going to kill me if he finds out I told you."

"Well," Brienne said trying not to sound too scandalized, "Sandor Clegane has been eating from the palm of your hand for years… and, I promised not to tell, but what do you mean that you took charge of things?"

Brienne had never been the dominant type, she had never even pictured herself in that position, but when Sansa Stark told her that Sandor Clegane, the freaking Hound, seemed to like when Sansa took over of things in the bedroom, Brienne wondered if Jaime might like that too. Despite the distance, or maybe because of it, she had gotten more and more comfortable with sharing the most private parts of her life with him, both emotionally and physically. That last time in Tarth after running into her old septa had changed everything, tore down the last of her walls and rendered her to his mercy, and what had he done? He had gone and made her feel like a queen, he had worshiped her like a goddess, showed her she was more than a brain in an ugly body, proved that there indeed were no other men like him. That night he had also ruined her because there would never be anyone else after him, but she was glad to be ruined in such way. So if Jaime Lannister could be selfless and gentle with her, maybe she could let go of her inhibitions a little bit and give him something different.

_What's the worst that could happen?_ Brienne thought as she put on her dress and noticed how silky the fabric felt against her skin, _He can always be the one to say no._  

When the car pulled over in front of the Lannister building, Brienne felt her heart skip a beat, it had been so long since she set foot in that place, and whenever she had, she had always felt like people were staring at her. Now, however, people were staring at Sansa Stark and her siblings. They got inside the building with no problem, there might have even been a hint of recognition on the guard's eyes as he let Brienne through, then they rode the elevator to the roof, where a little stage and a canopy had been set. The soft fairy lights, the tall chairs, the not two but three different bars in the room made everything look amazing, and Brienne noticed how she was feeling slightly more comfortable at social events than she used to. She glanced around the room and saw Sam Tarly and Varys, there was also Tyrion Lannister surrounded by girls, and she was partially sure that she had seen Tywin Lannister around.

Brienne shook hands and got her picture taken, she smiled at cameras and donors and fans of her books as well as haters, and then she started naturally fading into the back because this was Sansa's party and Brienne would not be the one to steal her spotlight. She walked towards the third bar, the one in the darkest corner of the room, and took a seat on a high stool. From there she could see Rickon and Bran engaged in conversation with Sam, all three of them probably talking about fantasy things or books; she could also see Jon shadowing Sansa and shooting daggers with his eyes at Petyr Baelish. Brienne wondered if Galladon would have done the same for her, give murderous looks at anyone who tried to get too close or familiar with his little sister, sure, she was not small and frail looking like Sansa Stark, but that wouldn't have mattered to her brother, right?

"What can I get you?"

She was half sure that the voice she had heard from behind the bar could not belong to Sandor Clegane, but then, who else had that steel over stone tone of voice? Brienne turned around and found the Hound making the bartender visibly uncomfortable, but the lad was most likely barely twenty one and had to look up to try to see Sandor in the eye, not that he seemed to dare.

"Scotch neat," Brienne said.

"I'll take one too!", Arya said coming out of nowhere. 

The Hound poured three drinks and then went around the bar to join the women, he looked so different from what Brienne was used to seeing; in a suit and wearing a tie, Sandor Clegane didn't look as rough and dangerous as he usually did in those fated t-shirts he liked to wear. Sandor caught her staring and raised an eyebrow, a silent challenge or a mocking glance, either way, he didn't push the issue, and neither did Brienne.

"I think you're not allowed to go behind the bar," Brienne said as took a sip of her drink.

"Well, my girlfriend runs this show," he said unapologetically. 

"Your girlfriend runs your life, dude," Arya said with a smile.

_So they get along just fine_ , Brienne thought happily as she took in how Sandor was looking at Sansa despite her being all the way across the room.

"Only because I let her," the Hound said with the hint of a smile.

Brienne saw him the minute he walked through the elevator doors, and while she wanted to run up to him and kiss him hello, she decided to stick to their plan and lay low, something she was really good at doing. For thirty minutes she talked to Sandor and Arya about nothing at all, they weren't the most talkative lot but at least the silence was comfortable between them, and then, finally, Sansa went on stage, and all three of them made their way towards the thick of the crowd. 

Every word Sansa issued about Jaime made Brienne's heart expand, she didn't need someone else listing the attributes she already knew her boyfriend had. His good heart, his perseverance, how he cared for others, his engagement with giving back to the community, though that last one was a bit of a stretch, it was nice for other people to hear who Jaime Lannister really was. He was called on stage, and he looked so adorable awkward that Brienne didn't notice when a tall, lean man took the place that was before occupied by Sandor. When a cold hand brushed her arm as there was a round of applause, Brienne almost jumped out of her skin.

"Miss Tarth," Tywin Lannister said, "What a pleasant surprise."

"Mr. Lannister," Brienne said trying to catch her breath, "It's always nice to see you."

Tywin led them away from the crowd and Brienne followed, he got her another drink, which she took without complaint, and then started what would be defined as a casual conversation in which Tywin made lots of questions, and she replied with short answers. How was work, how was her father doing, was her father planning on visiting the capital with her because perhaps, given how well things were going between her and Jaime, they could all get together for lunch. How were things with Jaime, had his son done something idiotic lately, was she planning on staying in Tarth much longer, could she possibly convince his son to shave off that stupid beard he was so determined to grow. Brienne had to laugh at Tywin's last request, she had always been a terrible liar, but she said she would tell Jaime something about the beard, what she didn't tell Tywin was that she was planning on seeing how well it fit up close before decided what judgment to pass.

"Miss Stark," Tywin suddenly called for Arya as he saw the girl walking by. 

_How and why does Tywin Lannister know Arya Stark, and most importantly, is he looking at her with some sort of fondness?_ Brienne thought feeling slightly worried.

"Mr. Lannister," Arya replied with a big smile, "Are you going to offer me a job again?"

"Are you planning on rejecting it again?" the elder Lannister said with what was undoubtedly a smile.

"Yes," Arya said happily.

"Then I will only offer you a drink," Tywin said, "Miss Tarth, if you excuse us, I believe my son just saw you, and thus I will be leaving you in the company you desire. Shall we, Miss Stark?"

The sight of Arya Stark's hand draped over Tywin Lannister's arm was a strange one, not unsettling or disturbing, but just strange. Judging by the tone of their voices and the gentle teasing between them, Brienne knew that there was more to their friendship than they lead on. That, however, was something that she would ponder about later because she could hear steps walking up to her and she knew who those steps belonged to. Tywin had not been lying, Jaime was indeed sporting something longer than a stubble but not quite a beard yet, and while she liked the sharp angles of his face, the way there was a salt and pepper game going on with his look was very appealing. He walked silently to her, only stopping when he was less than a feet away from her, she could smell his cologne, and she wondered if he could smell her perfume; she had been caught staring, so she decided to make the most of it and eye his half beard closely, taking the chance to run her fingers through the short hairs on his face. 

"Hello there," Brienne said softly, and her voice came out raspy.

"What are you doing here?" he asked with a smile as he ran a hand through her hair though she knew no lock needed to be pushed back.

"My friend invited me to this event… and I also wanted to surprise my boyfriend for our eighteen month anniversary", she said trying to play it cool, trying to be that girl who flirted graciously and not awkwardly.

"I love that dress," Jaime said in a whisper, and everything in the world disappeared except for the two of them.

"I'm hoping you will love the other things I have in store for you then."

She saw Jaime's eyes darken immediately, sending a shiver down her spine, but before she could do anything; before he could say anything, Rickon Stark coughed loudly and interrupted the moment. With a big smile that showed he didn't feel the apology he issued, Rickon said that Sansa wanted them for a group picture, one for the papers and one for herself, and the three of them made their way towards a beautiful cake modeled after a school. There were pictures and flashes, the photographers suddenly interested in her and Jaime and then switching their attention to Sansa and Sandor Clegane. A part of her felt sorry for Sandor, she knew that the photographers were interested in him because some piece would probably go around the internet the following morning on how a beautiful girl like Sansa Stark could do better than a scarred man like him. But Sandor didn't seem to mind, he had honestly never been one to care much for the opinions of others, on the contrary, he stood tall and lifted his head, wrapped his arm around Sansa's waist and stood as if daring one of those men to say something. Sansa, on the other hand, was looking adoringly at her boyfriend, at her family and her friends; after all, she did hold quite a name in the publishing world, if something that she didn't like was printed, all she had to do was make a few phone calls and that writer would be out of a job.

"Where are you staying?" Jaime asked about an hour later as they finally broke away from the group and had a minute to their selves.

"With the Starks."

"Nonsense, I've been dreaming about you in my bed for the past five months, you're coming with me," Jaime said firmly, "If, if that's okay with you," he added as an afterthought. 

_It's time to be bold,_ Brienne thought as she took a deep breath in, _Might as well start testing the waters._

"Take me home, Lannister," she said, and her voice caught in her throat, the gods must have approved of her decision, or maybe it was the devil because her voice came out sultry and Jaime took her by the hand and all but pulled her away from the party.

* * *

He wouldn't admit to it, but his blood ran slightly hotter whenever she called him Lannister. There was something in the way she managed to say his name that made his mind race with impure thoughts, luckily it was something only she managed to do. The drive from the office to his apartment wasn't long, but with the way Brienne was looking in that red dress, in that Lannister red dress and how blue her eyes looked thanks to whatever was applied on her face, the drive felt endless. The fact that her hand kept going higher and higher up his thigh wasn't helping either. The light turned red, and he turned to look at her; two years ago he would have used any word but beautiful to describe her, that night, he couldn't imagine using another word if not beautiful. She looked nervous too, she was braver than she had ever been, her words, her touch, everything about her was slightly different and therefore enhancing. He knew better than to push her. He wanted to explore more of that side of her, he wanted her to feel free to be herself, and if not herself, then whoever it was she was playing at being that night. But overall he wanted her, under him, in his bed, as he really had been dreaming about for the past five months.

"It's green now," she mumbled, and he looked away from her and pressed hard on the pedal. 

It wasn't just chivalry what made him run around the car to get her door, well, it wasn't chivalry at all, it was the promise of watching her long legs extend out of the car, the promise to see her skin through the tear in her dress that in his opinion was not long enough. But she thought him chivalrous when he extended his hand to help her out, and she thought him funny when he pulled her flush against him as she set both feet on the ground. He wanted to press her up against the car and kiss her senseless in the middle of the parking lot, but he didn't. He wanted to press the stop button on the elevator and have his way with her right there, standing against a wall, but he didn't. Instead, he allowed his body to shiver whenever her fingers brushed against his scalp, he indulged in the sweet overdrive his senses were going through when she leaned in and brushed her cheek softly against his shoulder; when she squeezed his hand in hers.

_I'm fighting a losing battle_ , Jaime thought as he tried to control himself while he followed her into his apartment and locked the door behind them.

He froze in place when he looked up and found Brienne standing in the middle of the living room, it was as if everything had fallen into place then, what had been missing in his apartment all along had been her. She was the reason why his apartment felt so empty for the past five months, she was the reason why he felt the place cold and lonely whenever he walked in after a long day of work. Jaime looked at her and tried to open his mouth to say something, but before even having the chance to do so, he saw a blur of red moving past the living room and in the direction of his bedroom. He followed her as if he were a sailor following the song of a mermaid, without thinking and without noticing his actions. He walked past his home office and the guest bedroom and then made a right turn into his bedroom, half hoping to find her naked on his bed.

"Brienne?"

He felt like an idiot, calling out for her when it was evident that she was inside; Jaime took a step forward, his eyes trying to adjust to the dark room and he could have sworn he had left the light on. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he felt a warm hand in his chest, pushing him back with enough force to make him stumble a little. The next thing he knew was that he was pressed against his bedroom door with Brienne devouring his lips like there was no tomorrow. A moan escaped his throat, a sorry cry that should have come from a fifteen-year-old green lad, not a thirty-three-year-old grown man like himself. But she was everywhere now, she was at his lips, and under his hands, she was at his neck, pulling on his tie, pushing on his shoulders to get rid of the jacket.

"Fuck," the word escaped his mouth as he pushed off his jacket and pulled forcefully on his tie, not breaking contact with her lips for a second.

"You can tell me to stop if you don't like this," Brienne said in a much softer voice than before, shakier, almost insecure.

"And why the fuck would I want you to stop?", Jaime asked almost angrily.

There was a moment of silence in which Brienne froze, and he stared into her eyes, looked at the outline of her face in the dark room, he wanted to see her, he wanted to see if the passion that was burning through him was also burning her down. Jaime pushed away from the door and captured her lips, shifting his body so that it was her trapped between him and the door, and while one hand squeezed her hip a little too roughly, the other looked for the dimmer. 

"Don't," he heard her say when he set the lights to the dimmest tone, just enough to be able to look at her clearly.

"Please," he begged and broke off his kiss, "Just… please."

She nodded slightly and took a deep breath. Under any other circumstances, Jaime would have slowed down, try to build her desire back up. But at that moment, with her so close to him, looking like she did and after touching him like she had been doing, the last thing he wanted was to waste time. Jaime took the chance to move his lips down her throat, pushing away the thin straps of her dress, taking his time while he found the zipper on her back and felt how Brienne was throwing her head back in delight. He felt her hand going to his belt and working it open, her fingers clumsily brushed against his crotch and he bit down on her neck, the little moan she let out was enough for him to want to send everything to hell. He pulled down the zipper, with the straps already off her shoulders, the silky thing fell into the floor with one swift motion, and he stepped back to look at her. 

_Fuck… Gods… How…_

He felt himself getting harder than he had been in a long time, the sight of Brienne in heals and lace panties was something he had imagined a thousand times, surprisingly, the reality of her in such attire was better than what he had ever dreamed of. Maybe she didn't look very womanly, perhaps the curve of her waist wasn't very pronounced, or her breasts were small, her face a little homely, her freckles too many. But she was warm and soft, she was tender, she was caring, loving, she smelled nice, and standing there, almost naked, confirming his suspicions that she hadn't been wearing a bra at all, it was as if his mind was about to explode.

If the look in her eyes were any indicator, he must have been looking at her like a predator toying with a very defenseless prey. Slowly, she stepped out of the puddled dress and started walking towards him, her eyes going from slightly scared to in control. Brienne pressed her fingertips firmly pressed against his chest and started pushing him towards the bed. When his legs hit the mattress, she didn't stop, pushing him over and he felt his stomach flip as he fell on the soft mattress. In a second she was on top, straddling him and unbuttoning his shirt, the smuggest look he had ever seen in her darkened blue eyes. She ran her fingernails across his chest hard enough to leave marks, and he couldn't care less as long as she continued acting like she was, as long as she kept subjecting him to such sweet torture. Involuntarily, his hips thrust upwards, his hands darting to touch her, any part of her, but she caught him by the wrists and pinned them over his head.

"Brienne…"

"Lannister?" she said cockily in a whisper and he thought could die a happy man right then and there.

He woke up feeling warm, the warmest he had felt in a long time, and when Jaime opened his eyes and saw Brienne wrapped up in his arms and wearing his discarded white shirt, let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding in. Jaime nuzzled his nose against her neck, breathed in her sweet scent that was mixed with his and maybe a little bit of sweat. He closed his eyes and tried to think about the previous night, or had it been that morning, he really didn't know. That was a very different Brienne from what he was used to, a version he had never met before, a side of her that liked to be in control, that didn't take orders from anybody. He remembered the first time he had read a lousy critic for one of her books while they were in a relationship and how she had told him that she had been taking shit from men like that all her life and how all her life she had been proving them wrong by being successful. He didn't know who she needed to prove wrong last night, or if she was even trying to prove someone wrong, but he was glad to be the man on hand for the task. A little voice inside his head told him that she wasn't doing it for herself, that she was doing it for him, and when he thought of how she had looked at him with unshed tears in her eyes the last time they made love at Tarth, he figured that might be true. 

_Gods, how different that night in Tarth was from last night,_ he thought.

The night he found her staring at her reflection he had taken the time to kiss her softly, kissed every freckle in her face, every scar on her body from boxing or running or whatever it was ladies were not supposed to do. That night he had held her softly, brushed his fingers against her cheek, covered her with his body, and allowed her to have the lights off. He had whispered sweet words to her ear, words he had never whispered to anyone before, and they hadn't been empty words, he had meant everything that left his lips. He had called her beautiful, praised her eyes, praised her body, the strength of it, the way she was strong and delicate at the same time. He had worshiped her in every sense of the word, and when they had finished, he had pulled her to him, kissed the top of her head and fought off sleep as he heard everything Brienne had to share with him about the horrible teaching of her septa.

Last night, gods, last night had been the entire opposite. She had been in control, she had pushed him in the bed and claimed his body as hers, she had left her marks on him, he could feel some of them burning his back right then, but how good that burning sensation was. She had given him the night of his life, and he was a little ashamed to admit that not once had he thought that he was too rough or that maybe he should slow down, and honestly, he wouldn't have been able to stop even if he wanted. She had made him lose his head, lose control, she had fucked him, and it had felt so good, so right. Jaime felt her stir against him, he felt her body tense up and then relax as she let out a yawn.

"Morning," he whispered softly into her ear as she snuggled closer to him.

"Good morning," she said in a sleepy voice.

"I have something for you." 

He kissed her shoulder and pulled away, reaching across the bed and into the nightstand drawer. When he turned back around, Brienne was laying down facing him, her blue eyes shining and that glow one got after a good fuck. Jaime smiled at her, wanting to memorize how she looked at that moment.

"Happy eighteenth month anniversary," he said and presented her with a small rectangular box. 

Brienne sat down and opened the box, an audible gasp caught in her throat, and her fingers ran over the silver chain and the sapphire that hung from it. 

"Jaime…"

"Don't say it's too much, okay? I saw it a few days ago in the store, and I just couldn't not get it for you. I know you're not too fond of jewelry, but I figured this was both elegant and yet discreet enough for you to like it, and it matches your eyes."

She turned to look at him then, eyes still widened with shock but a smile on her face, she wasn't protesting the gift, so that was a victory itself. Feeling lucky, Jaime took the box in his hand and pulled free the necklace, Brienne turned around and let him help her put it on.

"I don't have a gift for you," she mumbled as her hand went to the sapphire pendant, her fingers toying with it.

_A new nervous tic in the making_ , he thought gladly.

"Well, an encore of last night wouldn't be bad…" Jaime said with a winning smile that was quickly wiped away by the pillow Brienne threw his way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone gets weird about the whole Arya/Tywin interaction... Remember when Arya was a cupbearer in Harrenhal and how interesting and smart Tywin found her? Well, I just thought that would be a fun friendship to explore (one I didn't know I needed actually).


	7. The Bet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before him, before Hyle and that stupid bet…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again, lets see how this goes... I'm still trying to get over my block, I must have written this whole chapter about five times.

It might sound lame, he definitely would consider it lame if it was any of his friends doing it, but sometimes when he was alone at night, he liked to remember bits and pieces of conversations between him and Brienne. Lately, he didn’t remember conversations, recently he remembered feelings. The way Brienne’s nails dug into his skin, the welcomed weight of her body on top of his, the shivers that went down his spine as she tried to quiet down a moan. But then on a sleepless night a few weeks ago, his memories of Brienne’s only night in King’s Landing had suddenly shifted to the last night they shared in Tarth and a tiny bit of information that somehow managed to remain untouched in his mind. He couldn’t exactly remember everything they had told each other, but he could clearly remember Brienne mentioning three people in explaining why she was so guarded. He could remember Ron Connington being alluded, he could remember her stupid septa, those two he knew, but then there had been a third player, a man he only knew by name.

_Before him, before Hyle and that stupid bet…_  

He had tried desperately to let go of those words, but the more he wanted to forget them, the more his brain fixed on analyzing them. This Hyle man had done something awful enough as to be included in the same category as Ronnet Connington; furthermore, there had been a bet involved, and Jaime just knew that whenever stupid men made stupid bets, only hurtful things could be expected. And if Brienne had decided to guard her body and her heart as a result of that bet… it couldn’t be worse than what he imagined, could it? His mind might be overreacting, thinking too hard, reading too much into it, but somehow he had the hunch that the horrible gut feeling he had was right.

Restless and feeling tired, Jaime considered canceling breakfast with Tywin and Tyrion but decided against it knowing that if he did, then Tyrion would only be too happy to reschedule. Ever since their little heart to heart after that meeting with the Iron Bank, their relationship had improved considerably; they weren’t best friends, not by any means, but Twyin seemed to care a little more, be a bit more open, and Jaime wanted his brother to experience that side of their father too. So tired, sleep deprived and with his mind looping Brienne’s words, Jaime got ready and drove himself to the restaurant at the Targaryen hotel, where the three Lannister men would be gathering for breakfast on a lovely Saturday morning. But things hadn’t gone exactly as planned.

“Earth to Jaime?”, Tyrion’s voice brought him back from his spiraling down thoughts.

“Sorry,” Jaime apologized automatically, but there was a hint of concern behind his brother’s eyes, and maybe even behind his father’s eyes too.

“Is everything okay?” Tywin prompted, sounding genuinely interested.

“Oh, this has Brienne written all over it,” Tyrion said with a small smile filled with mockery.

Jaime looked at his little brother and urged him to shut up, but that had never worked before, so it surely didn’t work then. Yes, his problem had Brienne written all over it, but he didn’t know if he wanted to share just yet, could he? Could they be one of those families in which the offspring went to their father for love and relationship advice or were they too fucked up, too dysfunctional to even work? Tyrion was a womanizer, he had loved once, and father had scared that girl away. Cersei had married for money and power, more money and power actually, and she was trapped in a miserable marriage. He… he was doing okay now, but that hadn’t always been the case. And his father, Tywin had been a different man when their mother was alive, but after her, he had shut down, maybe he had been selfish in his grieve, but now Jaime understood that such amount of grieve must have been correlational to the amount of love there had been.

“She’s not telling me something, I don’t know what it is, but I feel it’s big,” Jaime confessed, “Brienne… she is a very complicated person, its easier to understand her, to love her, when she tells me the reason behind some things.”

There was a brief moment of silence, not entirely uncomfortable, in which Tywin and Tyrion exchanged looks and Jaime felt a little lost. He knew that look on his brother’s eyes, it meant that he was planning something, it was one of the clear tells that Tyrion was indeed his brother because his father had the very same cunning look. Not feeling too lucky, Jaime tried to avoid eye contact with his family.

“If this worries you so much, I have a man… he is the best at…. Researching people”, Tywin said after drinking from his coffee cup.

“He’s good, I can vouch for Bronn.”

Jaime looked from his father to his little brother, wondering when and why they both had the name of what he hoped was a private investigator and not someone shadier.

“Father and I might not have the sweet relationship you two have recently discovered, but we both have more flexible ethics than you, there lays the magic of our relationship.”, Tyrion explained, his voice dripping irony.

Jaime looked down, his first instinct had been to dismiss what he had heard, he wouldn’t, no, he couldn’t hire someone to dig up information on Brienne’s past, that was not right, that was a clear invasion of privacy. But that would also give him an advantage, make things easier to understand. Maybe he could just meet with the guy, he didn’t really have much information on what he wanted to find out, all he had was a name, the first name, and how much information could one get off just a first name?

“I’ll text you Bronn’s information, and you can decide what to do with it,” Tyrion said trying to ease the quickly building tension, “Now, father, how much do you want to make this new relationship work? Jaime and I know this delightful place where we hang out every other Friday…”

Jaime toyed with the idea of calling this Blackwater man for a few days, making a list of things that could go right and a list of things that could go wrong, and in the end, a few days later, he caved in.

“Your brother has hired me for many assignments, they differ quite a bit from what your father hires me for; so what do you need? Numbers? Information? Dirt?” the voice on the other end of the line said cockily after Jaime introduced himself.

* * *

Bronn Blackwater was precisely what Jaime had pictured only slightly older. Lean, definitely strong and with a face that said he was up to no good, the man was disrespectful, had a witty sense of humor and clearly only cared about getting paid. All in all, Jaime liked him. They might have even been friends in a different scenario, but as they shared a cup of coffee in the very same spot where he had met his girlfriend, the same woman he was about to have investigated, Jaime couldn’t exactly feel a bond being born with the man before him. 

“Look, I only have a name…”

“I only need a name,” Bronn said drinking from his plain black coffee, “I’m that good.”

Jaime had purposely kept his information vague, he said he wanted to know a bit more about his girlfriend’s past, he wasn’t worried about cheating, he just wanted to know the events that made an impact on her. Bronn Blackwater smiled at him, a smile that dripped sarcasm, and said that he’d send Jaime a file in a week; then he stood up to leave.

“We haven’t even discussed a price,” Jaime said standing up as well.

“I’ll send you the bill according to how long the job took, I know you Lannisters like to pay your debts.”

One week later Jaime found a black envelope waiting on his desk, for a minute he was about to call security since his secretary said she hadn’t touched the thing, and then he saw two white B’s printed in the bottom corner and knew exactly what he had in his hands. Maybe it was guilt, perhaps it was that he knew that what he had done was wrong, that he had no right to know more about Brienne than what she was willing to share, but for three days he sat behind his desk staring at the black envelope out of the corner of his eye. The better part of him knew that he shouldn’t open the envelope, but then he also knew that the invoice was inside and he did have to pay that debt.

_I’ll just open the thing, pick up the invoice and throw everything out_ , he thought as he stored everything in his bag. _Just to pay the man._

The second he stepped out of the car and found himself in front of the Hound’s bar, Jaime knew he had been trying to fool himself. If he had really meant to only pick out the slip of paper and pay the man, he would have done so in the office, or at home, not in the corner booth of a bar as he was planning on doing. He walked inside, greeted Sandor and asked for a beer. When the Hound himself delivered the drink to his table, Jaime felt slightly trapped.

“That,” Clegane said pointing at the black envelope after leaving the pint, “looks like bad news.”

Jaime stared at that man who, surprisingly, was one of his closest friends. Sandor Clegane had never been one to get his nose in people’s business, hells, sometimes it was hard to get his opinion when directly asking for it, but what could the Hound know about what Jaime had between his hands?

“That’s from Blackwater, right?”, Clegane asked as if reading Jaime’s mind. “People who get mixed with Blackwater are bad news.”

“And how would you know?” Jaime asked curiously.

“Because I’m friends with that cunt,” Clegane replied with a twisted smile, “I’ve seen enough of those envelopes in between your brother’s chubby hands, but well, that’s none of my business.” 

Clegane left as quietly as he arrived, too smooth for a man his size and build, too insightful for someone who was supposed to be just a bartender from the wrong part of town, but then again, that scarred old dog had managed to make pretty Sansa Stark fall for him, so maybe there was more than met the eye with him. Jaime drank some of the beer and stared at the envelope, did he really want to know what was inside? Because there sure would be something valuable in there, both his father and Tyrion wouldn’t use Bronn’s services if the man didn’t deliver. Something in him knew that he should wait for Brienne to be ready and continue sharing what burdened her but he had never been a particularly patient man, and Brienne wasn’t a particularly open person. Maybe this would be what was best for both of them, he would get his information and not press for anything and she would have him know stuff without feeling pressured to share.

_We both win_ , Jaime lied to himself, _it’s just a shortcut._

He opened the envelope and emptied all the contents on the table, pictures, copies of newspaper articles, printed out things that looked like academic records, and a pink piece of paper that was the invoice. Jaime picked up a picture and saw Brienne in a cap and gown, judging by the year written in the back, that must have been her high school graduation, he then picked up the copy of an article and scanned through it, his heart clenched as he realized it was a piece on the day her brother drowned. He started feeling uneasy, flushed even and decided to push everything back in the envelope, pay the man and burn everything, he was set on doing that until he picked up a picture of Brienne in front of a building that looked like a lecture hall, she wasn’t alone, there was a man beside her, turning the picture around, his heart skipped a beat: Brienne Tarth (19) & Hyle Hunt (20).

Hunt, Jaime thought as he looked at the papers that were clipped together to the picture. He started reading and then his heart stopped, bile rose in his throat, and he felt like throwing up.

_Before Hyle and that stupid bet…._

“Fucking Hyle Hunt!”, he exclaimed and slammed his fist against the table, taking a deep breath, Jaime pulled out his phone and scanned through his contacts, “Hey, I have a second job for you,” he said.

“Let me guess, Hyle Hunt?”, Bronn answered through the other end of the line, and Jaime mumbled his agreement, “You should receive that file by tomorrow afternoon.”

Suddenly, there was a new thing on top of his to-do list: Kill Hyle Hunt.

And he could, if he true to the seven wanted to do it because Bronn Blackwater might be a shady bastard, but he was the best shady bastard in the business. Before him, Jaime had a number of papers spread on his desk, pictures of the man through the years, his latest medical records, bank statements, address and phone number, place of work; he had everything he needed to find that bastard and yet, illuminated by the glow of his computer screen, Jaime could only see one piece of paper, a flight reservation arriving at Tarth a week from that day. Jaime opened a new window on his computer and browsed for tickets to Tarth, the prices were actually cheaper than he thought and he did have quite an open agenda for the following Wednesday. Jaime opened a new tab and checked his and Brienne’s shared calendar, she would be busy, something about discussing promotion for the movie and discussing the launch of the final Oathkeeper book, he could fly to Tarth, break Hyle’s nose and then get out without her even knowing… or he could do nothing, wait until the following week when Brienne was free and wait for her to tell him about Hyle.

_Fuck it,_ Jaime thought as he grabbed his wallet and fished out his credit card, no, he had never been a patient man, he was not about to start then. 

That was how he ended up in Tarth on a Wednesday, a single night reserved in a different hotel from what he usually booked, a bag with a change of clothes and nothing else and one thing on his mind: Hyle fucking Hunt.

How long had he been waiting for him? Thirty minutes? Maybe a little less, but it mattered not. He felt like a stalker, sitting on that single bench across the street from the City Hall office, pretending to read a newspaper while paying close attention to the main entrance as not to miss the man. Under any other circumstances he might have liked Hyle Hunt, there was something about the man’s face that made him… likable, or something along those lines. Perhaps it was that he seemed honest, that the scar on the side of his face made him appear kind of relatable, that that same face was handsome enough for its memory to last a couple of days. But under the current circumstances, Hyle Hunt was not someone Jaime could like, might ever come to like, and his was a face that Jaime would remember for the rest of his days, especially that crooked nose that looked as if it had been broken in the past and that was going to get broken again in a matter of minutes.

As Jaime walked behind Hyle Hunt, he couldn’t help but think of how he ended up in that situation, of what would Brienne think if she ever found out what was about to go down. Would she feel flattered? Act the part of the grateful lady who praises the knight for defending her honor? Or would she be enraged by his actions? Somehow he thought Brienne would not be happy with him flying to Tarth, tracking down a man and then hitting him out of the blue, even it that man was Hyle fucking Hunt. Maybe that was why he hadn’t told her what he was planning on doing. Well, that was a half truth, he hadn’t told Brienne that he was planning on hitting Hyle Hunt be because he wasn’t supposed to really know who Hyle Hunt was in the first place. 

He felt the adrenaline rushing through his veins as he got closer to Hunt, Jaime had been in enough fights back in the day to know that when faced with a man who was slightly shorter than him but looked sturdy, his only advantage would be the element of surprise. He followed Hunt past the end of the street and turned the corner, if he was about to assault another man with no apparent reason then he needed to do it as far from any government facility as possible. A smile crept on Jaime’s face as he followed Hyle away from the town square and inside the main park, a place which should be half empty with kids still at school and people working. They made it through the entrance and then followed the main path, trying to remember the layout of the place, Jaime figured that if he was going to punch the man then it would have to be quick. He hurried up and quickly found himself just a few steps behind Hyle Hunt, his fist instinctively closed and he took a deep breath. Using his left hand, Jaime grabbed Hunt by the shoulder and turned him around forcefully, the younger man offered no resistance in his shocked state.

Looking at the man square in the face for the first time, seeing not the older man before him but the young idiot from the picture, Jaime threw his fist with all his might against Hunt, the hit missing Hunt’s nose by an inch as he tried to avoid contact. With his blood running up and his heart pounding against his chest, Jaime looked down at the man lying on the dirt, a thin string of blood pooling at his lip, a bruise already forming on his cheekbone. Hunt was looking at him in utter confusion; Jaime smiled cockily, trying not to show how much his hand was hurting.

“Jaime?”

_Fucking hells_ , Jaime thought as he turned around, _seven fucking hells._

“Oh gods, Hyle!?”

_What the fuck?_

Hyle Hunt might have been knocked down by the right hook that Jaime threw his way, but having Brienne walking past him and rushing to Hunt’s help felt as if Sandor Clegane had hit him in the stomach with every single fiber of his body. Stunned, Jaime saw as Brienne kneeled and cupped Hunt’s face softly between her hands, turning his face slightly so that she could assess the damage on the man’s cheekbone.

“What the hell, Jaime?!”

He had never before heard Brienne’s voice so hard, so cold, so full of something that was dangerously close to resembling hate. And to be honest, he did not understand why. How could Brienne care so deeply for a man who had been part of a bet for her virginity, how could she be so worried about the piece of scum who was now standing up in wobbly legs and still hadn’t said a thing to him?

“Me?”, Jaime asked in disbelief, “What about him? How can you be so worried about him after all he did to you!”

Brienne stood in silence before him, her wide eyes narrowing by the second, her gaze turning deadly, and Jaime knew that if things were bad for him, he had just managed to turned them into something worst.

“What he did to me?” Brienne asked in a low voice and took a step forward, “what do you mean by what he did to me?”

Jaime turned to look around, trying to avoid her gaze and maybe find a way out of the hole he had dug for himself.

“The bet, Brienne, I’m talking about that fucking bet.”

Hunt seemed to finally understand what was going on, why he had just been assaulted by a complete stranger, he took a step forward and started opening his mouth when Brienne extended a hand his way and ordered him to stay put. Jaime looked from Brienne to Hyle and then back to Brienne, not completely understanding the relationship they seemed to have.

“I never told you anything about that bet”, Brienne said silently asking for an explanation.

Jaime looked down at his feet and then at the knuckles of his right hand, he might have fractured something, the skin was broken, and his middle finger hurt like hell. He took a deep breath and looked at Brienne’s eager eyes.

“How?”, she pressed on.

“I had someone…”

“You had someone look into my past?!”, Brienne asked and stepped away, “Fucking unbelievable.”

“You weren’t telling me anything!”, he said grasping at straws, digging himself in deeper.

“I was telling you plenty! At my own pace, but of course, Jaime _fucking_ Lannister had to go and have things his way! I can’t even look at you right now”, the poison in her words was killing his soul, his breath caught when she turned and apologized to Hunt before starting to walk away.

“Brienne!” he called out and started to follow her 

“If you follow me, I swear to the seven that I will hit you,” she said, deadly.

He watched her walk away and made no effort to go behind her, the way she had said she couldn’t even look at him stung deep in his soul. He watched her until she disappeared in the distance and then turned to look at Hyle Hunt, despite his best effort, Jaime felt a pang of guilt at the sorry sight of the man’s face.

“Jaime Lannister, right?”, Hyle said cautiously and keeping his distance.

“Unfortunately,” Jaime replied sounding angry, “What the fuck are you looking at?”

“Well, I think that since you almost broke my nose and it looks like rain is coming, we could both use a drink,” Hyle said as he tried to dust off his clothes.

He had never expected was to find himself sharing a drink with a man who he had assaulted, but there he was, at a hotel bar sitting next to Hyle Hunt and ordering a glass of whatever the oldest scotch they had in stock. Jaime saw as the bartender poured him a serving and decided that wouldn’t do, quickly calling the attention of the young man behind the bar, he asked for a double instead. To his side, Hyle Hunt had a makeshift icepack pressed against his cheekbone and a beer bottle before him, Jaime stared shamelessly at Hunt trying to figure out in what world did a man who was assaulted offered his aggressor the hospitality that Hunt was offering to him.

“I asked Brienne to marry me once,” Hyle Hunt said out of the blue, his voice dull and thick, and Jaime couldn’t help but turn and look at the man in surprise.

“And why would she ever agree to marry you?”, Jaime asked despite the fact that he was trying to be more civil.

“Brienne and I go way back, the bet thing… that was just an episode in our friendship, but I guess she hasn’t exactly told you about all that, has she?” Hyle asked and drank his beer.

Over the course of two hours Jaime found out that Brienne and Hyle Hunt indeed went back way longer than he had ever imagined, maybe if he had read the entire package that Bronn had sent, the would have already known that information but he didn’t, and there was no point on crying over spilled milk. So he heard everything Hunt had to say, learned that they met a few weeks into Brienne’s freshman year but didn’t entirely become friends until after midterms, Jaime learned that the bet had been a desperate attempt for Hunt to get money and that he had felt so guilty about it afterwards that he had dropped the classes they had together. He learned that Hyle Hunt didn’t talk to Brienne for two years after the bet, and that when Brienne finally gave him a chance to explain, he had come clean and she, being the noble soul she was, had forgiven him. He learned that Hunt proposed and she said no but they remained something close to friends and that once or twice a year, they had lunch or dinner together.

_Rain_ , Jaime thought as he left the bar of Hunt’s hotel, _always with the fucking rain._

Once again he was caught in the rain and wallowing over Brienne Tarth, once again feeling confused and maybe this time slightly sick. It was pouring when he left Hunt’s hotel and it didn’t look like the rain would stop anytime soon. The sound of drops against his hotel window was everything he could hear, the sound of the pouring rain drowned the voices coming from the television, made it impossible to concentrate on the magazines he had found on the bedside table or the emails on the screen of his phone. It was raining, and he was uneasy, he was hurt despite not having any right to feel that way, and he knew he had to do something about it. Jaime picked up the phone and called a cab, went down to the lobby to have a drink while he waited and ran from the hotel to the car in a sorry attempt to avoid getting wet. It didn’t work.

He was sure that they would work things out, they always did, they always would, so when the taxi driver asked if Jaime wanted him to wait, Jaime sent him on his way with a big tip. He stood in the middle of the rain and looked at the big house that somehow seemed bigger and scarier, thunder went off somewhere in the ocean and he closed his fist. He felt sharp pain run through his body and quickly opened his hand again, something was definitely broken, maybe not badly, but surely bad enough. Wishing to get out of the rain and maybe some ice for his hand, Jaime quickly covered the ground between him and the door, using his left hand to ring the bell slightly longer than necessary.

“Captain Tarth, hi,” Jaime said surprised, he had pictured Brienne opening the door, that was what happened in movies after all, “Is Brienne home?”

“She is,” the old man said and remained silent, staring straight into Jaime’s eyes. When he got no reply, Selwyn took a deep breath and continued talking, “She is very upset, I don’t believe you should be coming in tonight.”

“Look, I just need to talk to her for five minutes,” Jaime explained and shifted his weight to his right leg, Selwyn Tarth mimicked his movements as to further block the entrance.

“And I just said you wouldn’t be coming in tonight,” the man repeated himself in that tone of voice only stern fathers could muster. Jaime took a few steps back, trying to see if Brienne might be looking out for him from a window, searching for any sign of her, “You should go, Jaime.”

He could feel the anger rising in him, he could feel the burning sensation in his blood, the bitter taste on his tongue. He wanted to tell Selwyn that he had to talk to Brienne, he just had to, because he would be on the first flight back to King’s Landing come morning and Brienne’s last words to him had been a promise to hit him if he went after her. It was his fault, all of it, but at that moment he couldn’t quite see that; all he saw was his girlfriend’s father standing between him and forgiveness, because she could sure forgive him, right?

_She forgave Hyle Hunt, she can forgive me too_ , he kept telling himself.

Selwyn Tarth let a sigh out and turned to close the door, the action sprung Jaime into movement, his already hot blood making it impossible to think.

“You know, Captain, I have the feeling you like me less and less each time I visit,” Jaime accused the elder man as he paced before the door.

“I do like you, Jaime. I think you are a decent man, but no matter how decent you are, my girl will always come first. I don’t know what happened today, but I haven’t seen Brienne so distressed in decades, and I don’t like that. You’ll see, some long distance relationships just don’t work; go home, son, there’s nothing you can do here tonight.”

 


	8. Please, leave a message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don’t always need to be saved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to apologize to everyone reading for taking so long to update. There have been some recent changes in my life that don't allow me to write as much or as often as I used to, with that being said, this chapter also took longer because I was almost done writing and then realized that it wasn't any good, so I rewrote the whole thing. 
> 
> I hope this update was worth the wait.

It would have been a lie to say that she had gotten used to Jaime Lannister, some days she still woke up and couldn't believe she had a man like him next to her. Sometimes she looked at her pendant and thought of his warm eyes and mischievous smile, and was astounded that they had been able to make things work, that he had fought for her and that she had let him in. She no longer worried that he would disappear, a part of her believed that the only way in which that man would leave her life was if she did something big, huge really, to push him away. And to tell the truth, she didn't want him away from her life, she wanted him with her every day and every moment, even when they were apart, even when they were fighting.

She wanted to tell Jaime about Hyle Hunt ever since she first met some of his college acquaintances because that was what he had called them, acquaintances, not friends. She wanted to tell Jaime how she didn't have many college friends either, how the only person that she still talked to from those school days was Hyle and how even she considered that relationship to be slightly twisted. She knew that she wouldn't share all her history at first, would definitely not be telling Jaime anything about the bet or the hasty marriage proposal, that would come with time, but she would share how an imperfect friendship was better than no friends at all. She wanted to share, wanted to accord a bit more of her to him, but how do you explain a man like Hyle Hunt to someone like Jaime Lannister?

She met Hyle Hunt on the second semester of her freshman year. He was in one of her classes, and he had somehow ended up as her lab partner. Everything started with a little chat a little after class, then sitting together, having a study group and revising for exams in the school cafeteria or the gardens is it was sunny outside, and before she realized, she was friends with him. The thing about Hyle Hunt was that he has an honest face, one of those faces that made you believe that he could be trusted, maybe not with your life but admittedly with a couple of secrets; and while she had been wary of almost every man who came near her after the entire Connington situation, Hyle broke her barriers with gentle words and soft smiles. They were friends before the bet happened and maybe that was why it had hurt so much... but also why she ended up forgiving him. The transition he tried to make, from friends to something more than friends, was smooth and perhaps slightly calculated. Cups of coffee in the cafeteria became occasions in which he tried to touch her hand, times when he casually dropped a compliment or two not only on how smart she was but also on the way she looked, and she fell for it. For almost a month she accepted his advances, blushed when he said she looked lovely, agreed to endless cups of coffee that her liver wasn’t handling too well, but she had been the loneliest kid in high school, and a shy freshman and Hyle was the first real friend she made in that new place. Then, almost overnight, things changed for them.

It happened in one of those endless summer days, Hyle came to her after practice and kissed her straight in the lips, no warning and no gentleness as there had been the few times they had kissed. She thought that was what passion was supposed to feel like, later in life she would discover that passion was not the particular kind of desperation that she felt in that kiss. But at the time, inexperienced and naive, and she let this slightly older man take the lead, allowed him to push her into the bedroom, fall into bed with him and let his hands ramble over her clothes. It was when he tried to touch her skin that she jumped, with blotchy cheeks and a racing heartbeat she asked what was going on, and he fed her a sorry line of how he had wanted her for so long and just couldn’t wait anymore. He said please and sounded so honest, but something in the back of her mind, probably her septa’s voice, told her that something was off, and it had been very off. He tried to kiss her again, but she turned away from him; Hyle let a frustrated sigh out and got off her, disappointment evident on his face as he tried to come up with arguments as to why they shouldn’t wait any longer. She stood her ground, let him go away fuming, thinking that he’d come back and apologize later that day, or that he would give her a call the day after, but he didn’t. A week went by, and then another, and he avoided her in class and in the hallways, and finally, almost a month later, she heard the news through the grapevine. Four students, Hyle included, were being sanctioned for unethical behavior, the headmaster would reach out to the other party involved and decide if they should be expelled; the headmaster called Brienne into his office the day after. 

She couldn't remember if she walked, ran or took a cab home after leaving Jaime behind. All Brienne could remember was getting back, storming inside her bedroom and throwing the door shut, as if she was a thirteen-year-old girl throwing a tantrum. She remembered pacing back and forth before her bed, running her hands through her short hair and trying to focus on her breathing. She remembered fishing for her phone, looking at the screen and turning off the device. She remembered falling on top of the bed and letting bitter tears fall from her eyes, tears of frustration and pain, tears of betrayal. They had been doing fine, they had gone almost back to normal, to the way things were before she moved away, and she true to the gods could not understand what had possessed him to hire a private investigator to dig up her past. She had been sharing her story with him, encouraged by different scenarios and by the experience of being back home; she had told him about Septa Roelle, which was probably one of the most heartbreaking experiences she lived. She had let slip the fact that Jaime had somehow found out about Ron Connington, she had mentioned Hyle but wasn't ready to tell him yet, she was planning to though, and then he had gone and jumped the gun.

Tired and confused, she had wrapped herself in the covers and left her sorrow to simmer in the darkened room, little by little sleep took over her. It was strange, but she woke up two minutes before the doorbell rang, it was as if her body could sense Jaime coming, was it possible to have that kind of connection? And if so, how much of her soul had she already given to him? Brienne knew it was him before looking out the window; before hearing his steps on the gravel entrance, but still tiptoed out of her bedroom and to the hallway where she'd be able to see him through a tiny window without being detected. Maybe she hoped he'd be able to see her. It was dumb, but a part of her wanted to see Jaime, the Lion of Lannister, on his knees begging for forgiveness, she wanted to see that proud man groveling before her as if she was the only thing that could save his soul. But she knew he wouldn't. She knew that no matter what happened, no matter what he said or did, Jaime Lannister would never beg her for anything. It wasn't in his DNA, it wasn't who he was, and although she harbored fantasies of him putting her before his pride, she wasn't too sure it would ever happen.

He was soaking wet before her father, drenched from head to toe and maybe a little tipsy, she could tell his speech was slurring a little but that came from knowing him well, she was sure her father hadn't picked that up, otherwise, he wouldn't have sent Jaime on his way. She watched him walk away, his shoulders slumped and his head down, she wondered if he'd find a cab to take him back to his hotel. If he'd be able to find the way to town in the dark and in the rain; if he'd be safe on the roads that were dark and lonely. Once back in her room, her eyes went straight to her phone, the black screen making her itch to turn it on and call him, only she didn't know what she'd say if he picked up. Her father had been right, she was quite upset, and it was probably for the better that she hadn't come down to meet Jaime at the door. Still, she worried about him, she would always worry about him, that much she was sure of.

"Sweetheart?", her father's voice broke her thoughts as his head popped into the room, "Goodwin was casually heading this way but found your boy walking... he's taking Jaime back to his hotel."

Brienne smiled softly at her father, fully aware that Goodwin wasn't casually going anywhere and that her dad had probably called their old friend and asked for a favor. Selwyn remained silent by the door, just like he used to do when she was younger and he was trying to find a way to give her some advice without being a nosy parent.

"Jaime met Hyle Hunt today," Brienne offered and fiddled with the hem of the comforter, "He... got his hands on some information about what happened back in college."

"Got his hands on some information?" Selwyn asked, his features hardening, leave it to her father to pick the exact sentence that was causing all her distress.

"I don't want to talk about it right now, daddy," Brienne said looking down, all the anger had left her body and was replaced by sadness, "Do you honestly think some long distance relationships just aren't meant to be?"

Her father looked quite surprised, he hadn't realized that she was listening to the private conversation the two men were having, well, actually she had just caught that last part. Selwyn looked at her and stepped into her room, with his hands deep inside his pockets, her father took a seat at the end of the bed and let out a tired sigh.

"I've seen many relationships die because of the distance, honey", her father explained, "Many people think that the key to successfully overcoming the obstacle that distance represents is trust, and that is only partly true, but what couples don't understand is that patience is every bit as important as trust."

"Patience?", she asked feeling a bit confused.

"You have to be patient when someone doesn't pick up the phone or sounds tired; when schedules don't match, and visits are short. But most importantly, you have to be patient and try to understand the reasoning behind the other person's actions." Selwyn looked up and held Brienne's gaze, making her feel like a little girl again, making her see him as the giant he would always be in her mind, "I don't know what happened, and I don't like how it sounds, but I do believe that boy loves you, fiercely. He has wronged you, and you have wronged him too in the past, and I can't talk to him about this, but if you want your relationship to work, you need to be patient with one another because it is only human to err."

"And he thinks you don't like him...", Brienne said with a small smile forming on her lips.

"Well, let's have him believe I don't, I like keeping conceited rich boys on their toes," Selwyn said with a smile, "Get some sleep, kid, tomorrow will be a new day." 

That night she dreamed of never-ending roads by the sea, of motorcycle rides and picnics in the middle of the park, walking hand in hand without a care in the world, and when she woke up, Brienne realized that it had been both a dream and a memory. In the morning light, things didn't look as dark, didn't feel as dramatic as they had the previous afternoon. Yawning, she reached out for her phone to check the time and realized that she never turned in back on, with a quick push of a button, she saw the screen light up. There was a chime, and the screen showed the time, 6:15 am.

_Too early to call him_ , she thought just as a notification appeared on the screen, one missed call.

**_You have one new message:_ **

_Brienne this is Jaime... Gods, I don’t even know why I said that. Anyway, your dad was right, I should have given you space last night. I’m about to board the plane back to King's Landing. Please call me... Please._

Perhaps it was the way his voice sounded, so soft and almost nervous in comparison to the somewhat confident man she had overheard from the window. Or that he had admitted that last night was no time to talk, in a way justifying her running away, but after hearing his message, a weight was lifted off her shoulders. A voicemail wasn't the right way to discuss Hyle Hunt or hiring a PI or anything else, that should be done in person or even over the phone, and he was asking her to talk to him, to call, so why wouldn't she? She played the message once again, and then another time, and after the final beep, she placed the phone down and decided she needed some coffee before thinking of her response. 

With a mug of steaming coffee in her hand and tiptoeing around her room, Brienne pushed Jaime's name on the screen and waited.

**_I can't get your call right now, leave a message. Beep._ **

_"Jaime, it’s Brienne… I shouldn’t have said that I’d hit you... I never would, really, ever. I’m purposely calling when you’re on the plane so you won’t pick up... look what you did... I’m sure there’s a reason why you did it, we should talk about that. I... I love you, okay?"_

She hung up the phone the second she finished talking, her lungs almost out of oxygen and her head spinning a little. That hadn't been too bad, it hadn't been perfect either but at least she had gotten off her chest the most important things, she had apologized and agreed to talk, left the table wide open for conversation, now all she had to do was wait.

And wait she did, she waited for him to call during lunch, but her phone remained silent in her pocket. She waited for him to call around four, a time during which she just knew he would be sitting on a little table by the windows of Roaring Coffee, wearing another perfectly ironed shirt that despite the late time did not have any wrinkles on it, a tie that needed no straightening, or maybe he wouldn't be wearing a tie at all, if the morning was particularly rough. But he didn't call while he had his usual coffee, and he didn't call while she was having dinner alone in the kitchen, watching television, because her father had decided to go out for a few drinks with some navy friends. Tired and feeling lonely, Brienne chose to call it a night, she could use some extra sleep, she could also use a break from the many scenarios she had been spinning in her head about why he wasn't calling. There might have been a buzzing in the distance, maybe her phone ringing or just another text message, but when she opened her eyes, the room was pitch dark, and she had already heard her father come into the house. The buzzing continued one more time, but just as she was about to get out of bed the sound stopped, tired, she turned around and continued sleeping.

**_You have one new message:_ **

_Hey sorry, I didn’t call earlier, I got swarmed with work and stuff... when are you free? I seem to keep missing you. I love you._

**_I can't get your call right now, leave a message. Beep._ **

_I swear I’m not screening my calls, last night I fell asleep early and somehow also overslept... can you believe it? I overslept. Anyway, that resulted in me leaving my phone at home, and now it ’s late... we have a shoot in a remote location and service might be sketchy. I’ll call you tomorrow night, around 9. We can talk then._

* * *

Everything was a blur, one moment she was doing fine, driving down the same roads that she had known for so long, the roads to which she knew every curve, and every turn. In those roads her father had taught her how to drive and then Goodwin had taught her how to have fun while driving. One moment everything was fine, but then everything changed. One minute she had both hands on the wheel and the next she was trying to hold on to it, trying to force the thing to stay still, swerving in the road and thinking that she was about to die. And while all of that happened, the only thing she remembered thinking was that she had to call Jaime, that they hadn't talked yet and the last thing she had said to him was that she would hit him. She remembered the car hitting the roadside barrier and being thankful because that meant the car would stop moving, only to feel immediately being afraid because the barrier gave and she felt how the car slid down the steep hill and into the forest. It might have been minutes, or it might have been hours, but the first time she woke up she was blinded by bright lights, maybe there had been a voice telling her to remain still, but she couldn't move anyway, not with the pain coming from her chest. The second time she woke up, she was lying down on a gurney, doctors, and nurses hovering over her, asking many questions, but she was tired, so tired, and all she could do was squeeze the hand that was holding hers and thinking that her dad would be worried that she was late for dinner, she was definitely late for dinner.

**_I can't get your call right now, leave a message. Beep._ **

_Jaime, this is Selwyn Tarth. There’s been an accident, Brienne is fine now, but we're still in the hospital. She seemed very committed to letting you know she wouldn’t be calling you tonight. I have to go now. Take care._

* * *

The first indicator that she wasn't in her room was the bed, it was too hard, the mattress too thin and stiff, there was no smell on the pillows either, not her own scent, and definitely not the scent of the fabric softer she had recently purchased. The second indicator was the brightness of the lights, they seemed too harsh even through her closed eyelids, and there really was only one place where the beds were hard and the light too bright. Slowly regaining consciousness, Brienne tried to piece together what had happened. She remembered being in the car and then, for some reason, getting off the road and falling down the cliff, she remembered the way the airbag hit her hard in the chest and maybe a broken window. She remembered the gurney and the sound of voices. Her head started to hurt, either from the accident or from thinking so hard, she could not tell, but she was about to groan when she realized there was a soothing sensation across her body too, a sensation that began at her hand. It was warm and a mixture of soft and rough at the same time, was someone holding her hand? It couldn't be her father, her dad's hands were calloused from all those years in the navy and sailing. Struggling, Brienne pulled all her strength together to open her eyes. 

"Jaime?", she asked as his profile came to focus, well, it really didn't focus right away, but he had no white hair so it couldn't be her father and what other men would ever sit by her side and hold her hand?

His head shot up, she thought there were bags under his eyes, a worried expression easy to distinguish, but it might have been the horrible lightning, the way it made shadows over the angles of his face. She saw him ran a hand through his face and manage a small smile, the words caught on his throat the first time he opened his mouth to speak up, so he closed it back again and gave it another go.

"How are you feeling?" He asked quietly, and Brienne noticed how silent the room was. There was no beeping, she had a monitor on her finger, things couldn't be so bad if she wasn't hooked up to things, right? "Do you want me to get your father? He stepped out not even ten minutes ago."

"Stay," she mumbled softly, the word taking all the air in her lungs and all the energy she had left, her eyelids felt heavy, her body started to hurt.

The next time she woke, now completely aware of her surroundings, three men were blocking the way to her door, three tall men with strong backs and different shades of color in their hair, the only three men in the world she trusted. If her vision was not failing her, Jaime was at the front, her father, the tallest of the three, was standing behind Jaime and had a hand clenched in a fist and the other resting on Jaime's shoulder. And then there was Goodwin, he was slightly angled to fit before the door, his shoulders thrown back and visibly tense. It took her a second to register the harshed whispered voices, something about her not being able to see the police yet, Jaime's voice raising slightly and then going down as if remembering that she was supposedly asleep behind them. There was a long, awkward pause, and then an icy voice mumbled something, she heard footsteps, but the men didn't turn to her, they remained by the door watching whoever had been with them walk away.

"Dad?", she asked, her voice much clearer than she remembered it being before, "What happened?"

Three pairs of worried eyes turned to look at her, the feeling so massive that it made her worry she might have underestimated her own condition. She saw worry turn into relieve and then, as if in a formation, the men made a triangle and walked towards her, her father leading, Jaime to her right and Goodwin to her left.

"Honestly, I don’t know, kid. I got the worst phone call of my life saying that you had been in an accident..."

"The car skidded. That’s the only thing I remember. I wasn’t going fast, not on those curves, but something happened, and the car skidded, and then all I remember is falling and tumbling and hitting things... oh gods, dad, the car."

"Fuck the car," her father said softly.

Brienne could count with one hand the number of times she had heard her father curse, and she had fingers to spare when it came to her father swearing in front of her. But right then, that one word shook her entire world, it happened in a second, half a second maybe but then her dad was hugging her, and she tried to sit up, and that was when she started feeling the pain. Her neck hurt, it hurt terribly, and the skin in the neck and collarbone felt warm, her left shoulder hurt probably from the seatbelt and her legs were sore, and there was a pressure on her chest, though that must have come at least partially from the overwhelming emotions in the room. Brienne enclosed her arms around her fathers broad back, the reassuring smell of ocean breeze filled her lungs and immediately she felt better. Taking a deep breath, she let the warm feeling of her father’s embrace heal her just it had so many times before. She opened her mouth to say something, but just as words were about to come out, the sound of the door opening made the entire atmosphere of the room change.

Jaime was the first to jump and turn around, followed by Goodwin and then Selwyn who carefully untangled from their embrace. The tension was once more palpable in the room, but it lasted only a few seconds as a nurse came in to make some notes on her chart, smiled at Brienne and said that she’d have the doctor check on her in a few minutes. She wanted to ask what the fuss was about, what was going on when she first woke up, but couldn’t bring herself to do so. When the doctor came, an older woman with a sweet smile, Brienne finally got some light on why she was hurting so much. Two broken ribs, a significant but not deep laceration on her head, a mild concussion and three lacerations deep enough to need five stitches each in the area of her collarbone, no wonder everything hurt. The airbag had prevented things from being worst, the doctor said, but the car hit a tree, which was both good and bad. Good as it took some of the speed away, bad because its branches were the ones that cut her skin deep and rough. While the doctor spoke, Brienne had only one question going round and round in her mind, how the hell did that happen?

“Miss Tarth,” the doctor’s voice brought her back to reality, “If you’re feeling better, the police wants to get a statement from you.”

“Yes, of course, let's try to get this over with… I’d like to go home, no offense”, she apologized. 

“None took”, the doctor replied with a kind smile, “I’ll go ahead and tell officer Hoat you’re ready for him.”

_Officer Hoat_ , she thought, _please let it be someone other than Vargo Hoat._  

The moment the man walked into her room she could feel the color draining from her face. Hoat looked older, rougher even, but what remained the same was the clear hatred in his eyes when he looked at her. Hoat was an officer back in the mainland, they had met under the most unusual circumstances when Brienne was an intern for Catelyn Stark. This northern writer, whose name she couldn’t remember anymore, was about to publish a piece on how corruption could be tracked down to the same families for centuries, and he had pointed out that people like Vargo Hoat were dirty cops that enabled those families. Full of pride and a desire to bring justice, Brienne had ignored Catelyn’s advice of not poking too much, keeping a low profile, and that was how she ended up meeting Vargo Hoat. She confronted him and was later imprisoned for assaulting an officer; the funny thing was that she had only touched the man to push him off her.

“You haven’t changed one bit, Tarth,” Hoat said while walking in as if he owned the place, “Those scars aren’t going to do you any favors either.”

“Could we please get the statement over and be done with it. I am feeing tired and would like to get some rest”, she said before anyone else could speak.

“Gentlemen, leave the room.”

There was a moment of silence there, the three men obviously not wanting to leave her alone with a man who had walked into her hospital room and been so openly rude, she thought there was a slight moment of recognition between Hoat and Jaime but dismissed it. The truth was that she didn’t want to be alone in the room with him either, but she was afraid of being accused of obstruction of justice or something like that. 

“We’ll be right outside,” her father said and held the door open, but not before sending Hoat a menacing look.

The statement was a waste of time, she had to sit through Vargo Hoat asking question after question to which she wasn’t too sure about the answers. She didn’t know why the car had skidded, she was entirely convinced that there hadn’t rained in the area, of course she had not been going fast, and yes, the car was insured. For almost an hour she talked and then had to sit and listen to Hoat babble on and on about how good cops investigated scenes and how he had already been working even for people like her, who didn’t have any respect towards the officers. In the end, cameras showed that not fifteen minutes before her accident, a water truck had spilled some of its content and because of the low temperatures, it had quickly turned into ice. So the big mystery had been solved, and she had to endure seeing Hoat and being treated like an idiot. 

When the so-called police officer left her room, Brienne let a sigh out and sank deeper in her bed, it was over now, and the only thing on her mind was going home. Feeling tired, she closed her eyes for a little while and heard people coming in, the scratching of the chair against the floor, and a warm hand on hers made her smile softly. 

“Give me one good reason not to have that man discharged from the force,” Jaime asked, “My father could…”

“Did that little file of yours contained my police records?”, she asked before he could even finish, just as realization sank that maybe, just maybe, the reason why Tywin Lannister could have someone discharged from the police force was that he had some cops who worked for him too.

“What file?”, her father asked. 

“Police records?”, Jaime said at the same time 

“Brienne, don’t,” Goodwin said after a heartbeat.

Silence fell over the room, and she decided to share a bit more of her story, this time not only with Jaime but also with her father. She told them about the first time she met Vargo Hoat, how she had been dumb enough or guillible enough to believe that with enough proof, a girl from Tarth could get rid of a dirty cop. She told them how she had called Goodwin to help her out and then sworn him to secrecy, and when she finished that story, Selwyn’s eyes had a mixture of rage and disbelieve, as she had never seen before. A moment went by, a heartbeat or two, and then her father turned towards Jaime and asked for an explanation. She had never seen Jaime Lannister look as nervous as he did right then, not when he first introduced her to his father, not when he was about to present his project to the Lannister board, not when they had to attend a benefit in which she was surrounded by lions. Jaime looked at her and then turned to look back at her father, cleared his throat and started explaining how he had been an idiot and agreed to have a PI do some research on her, he didn’t say what he found out about Hyle Hunt, didn’t mention the bet and she was thankful for it, and then said that he hadn’t read any police report because as soon as he got back to King’s Landing, he destroyed everything.

Still visibly upset, Selwyn took a deep breath and stood up, he looked at Goodwin and said that he’d go talk to the doctor and find out when she might be able to go home. Goodwin, always a man able to read the room perfectly, offered to come with and let Brienne and Jaime room to talk, they surely must have things to say to each other. They remained silent for a minute, Jaime leaning against a wall but looking at her, was he noticing the cuts on her collarbone? Maybe looking at the scratches on her forehead and wondering if they might leave scars? She wasn’t a beautiful woman, she knew he loved her but couldn’t help but wonder what was going on through his mind; if her already plain looks would be harmed further by such unlucky event. Instead of worrying and overthinking, she decided to take a good look at him, his face always had a way of giving him away, she could always rely on reading his body language.

Almost immediately she noticed that his shirt was wrinkled, and that unsettled her in a much more profound way that it should. Jaime Lannister, the man who always looked perfect, had a wrinkled shirt, in all the time she had known him, she had never seen him in a wrinkled shirt. She also noticed that the middle finger on his right hand was taped together with his ring finger. At the sight of it, she felt a bit of guilt running through her, and then, surprisingly, an odd feeling of pride and love towards him.

“What time is it?”, she asked feeling dumb, it wasn’t exactly the most romantic, but she couldn’t handle the silence any longer.

“A little past noon,” he replied quickly and with a soft smile, “You should rest, Brienne.”

“But… we have to talk…”

“We can talk later,” he said and took a seat at the end of the bed, “I’ll be staying in Tarth for a while.” 

She wanted to protest, not because she didn’t want him near but because she didn’t want him to put his life on hold for her. That was why she hadn’t asked him to come to Tarth with her, why she wasn’t asking for anything really, because she was scared of asking for too much.

“I'm not going anywhere, not even if you try to send me away,” he said before she could protest. “If we are to fight, we will fight here. You will tell me to get lost, and I will crash with Goodwin or find a hotel, then we will make up here. I will apologize here, you will hopefully forgive, but I’m not going, not yet, not now when I can still remember the way my blood turned to ice when I heard your father's message.”

“I will tell you about Hyle, and more about Hoat if you want… but I need you to understand something, I don’t always need to be saved, sometimes I just need you to listen and understand.”

“I can do that, we can talk about them later, but you need to rest now, okay? Get some sleep, I’ll be here… I promise.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in case some of you noticed, I have changed the number of chapters left for this story, there will be one more chapter and that will be it. I did plan for this to be a little longer but now realize that it would affect the quality of the story... so one more chapter guys.


	9. Call it Witchcraft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He should have asked for a chamomile tea...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is now done, my dear readers, I think I stretched it too much and I apologize for that. I think the story was better in my mind, but I hope you enjoyed it any way. 
> 
> From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for reading and for your patience while I managed to come up with the last two chapters.

“Don’t mess up,” Jaime told his reflection in the mirror as he checked his pockets one last time, brushed a strand of hair into place and let out a deep sigh.

The time in Tarth had been great, he would dare to use the word productive even when it wasn’t conventionally used in the relationship field, but when had he, had them, ever been conventional? The first few days had been slightly awkward, to say the least, spent quietly sitting next to each other, trying to make her feel comfortable despite her broken ribs, sometimes getting murderous looks from her father. They had tried sharing the same roof, but it hadn’t worked out too well, and before he had to duck tail and announce that he’d be getting a hotel, good old Goodwin had suggested that maybe Jaime could use a break from the Tarths. And so had the better days began, he and Goodwin would have breakfast together, his carbs control thrown out the window as the old man served hotel quality waffles and pancakes for breakfast along with perfectly brewed coffee. They would talk about the news, and later Jaime would look over potential investments and make recommendations of where to put money with little risk. After breakfast, Goodwin would give him a lift to town and Jaime would walk over to Evenfall Hall. Usually, he would find Selwyn just leaving, and after a casual greeting, he’d step in and go to the study, where Brienne would already be reading or staring out the window and into the sea line. They would sit in silence for a few minutes, and then Brienne would ask him a question, sometimes it was easy, sometimes he had to ask for clarification and some others he would remain silent and then she would start talking.

Surprisingly, the Private Investigator thing had been the least of their problems. Throughout the months they had both pushed back little issues, tiny details about something that had happened that they would try to ignore as to not blemish their time together. It turned out to be that each little thing had piled up on top of the other, resulting in a big pile of unresolved issues that were as annoying as a pebble in the shoe. Another surprise was that while Brienne was the one who should have had the most issues because of her past, his own problems, however small in comparison, weighted more on him that he would have admitted. Sure, Brienne was insecure about herself and at times still doubtful about his love and commitment, but he had some sort of abandonment issues, he figured. And the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Here was a woman like no other he had ever met, physically and emotionally, she never gave two shits about impressing him, she never begged or inflated his ego, she never asked for anything and seemed only to want his love. She was reliable, she was the one thing that seemed stable in his life, and he was terrified to lose it, after losing his mother, after losing his relationship with his sister, after being treated as a means to an end so many times, this woman was refreshing, strong and independent and, very subtly, as desperate for his love as he was for hers. 

Jaime had panicked when he first realized how profoundly he needed her, how it wasn’t just her company and love that the longed for, but that he actually needed her in his life. It hit him out of nowhere as he sat by her desk, drinking a cup of coffee and alternating between checking the screen and watching her come in and out of sleep. He had must have been staring at her, he didn’t know for how long but his intense gaze must have woken her up. Bright blue eyes looked at him, and his heart clenched, a knot tying in his throat as his eyes went to the scars so near her neck and he thought, not for the first time, how easily he could have lost her. He wasn’t proud of it, but he had panicked right then, his mind running a thousand miles an hour thinking how he had never felt about another person the same way he felt about her. His heart reminding his brain how painful losing her mother had been and asking him if he was willing to endure such pain again. His knee twitched, the room suddenly felt too small, the air too stuffy; he wanted to step out of the room, but was afraid that if he did, he might start running and not turn back until it was too late, they had been talking so much in the last days, his heart felt raw, if that could even be possible.

“What’s wrong?”

Brienne's soft voice made his heart clench further, and he felt like a jerk for not being able to answer. What was he supposed to tell her? That suddenly everything felt too real? That he realized he might need her too much? He couldn’t do that, not to her. 

“Is it… is it the scars?” 

“No, B,” he said softly, a stupid little smile forming on his face.

And that was the truth, he didn't care about the scars, he was secretly looking forward to the day he could kiss her neck, feel her pulse racing. No, he wasn’t freaking out because of her scars, he was freaking out because he saw the way she looked at him now, how she adored him, how he felt at home with her. In the back of his mind, he heard the words of her father about long distance relationships not working, and his leg twitched again. He was freaking out because he loved her, because suddenly he felt the need to hold her and be away from her at the same time, because right then, he had the desperate desire to have a closer relationship with his father so that he could ask Tywin how was it that he knew when he found the right woman. But he didn’t say a thing, because he didn’t want to scare her or hurt her. 

“Jaime?”, she insisted, though her voice was now barely above a whisper.

“You’re not going to break my heart, are you?”, he asked, and that was the closest thing he could say to voice his real concerns.

“No, I’m not.”

He believed her, stupid as it might have sounded, he trusted her when she said she wouldn’t break his heart, the rest of their time together had been so much more comfortable after, blissful even. They talked and laughed, cooked dinner, burned breakfast, woke up her father in the middle of the night when they accidentally got drunk and had midnight swims in the ocean. His relationship with Selwyn also improved, when Brienne went back to the final days of shooting, he spent a few days with the old captain working on a boat and then, during the weekend, Selwyn asked if he wanted to come out and try it out in the ocean. The two men finally had the chance to talk without any concern of Brienne overhearing or getting interrupted, they bared their souls as much as men could; agreed that the most important thing was Brienne’s happiness and then, Selwyn pushed Jaime off board, sending him into the cold sea and laughing wholeheartedly, by the time Jaime was dry again, everything was back in order.

He went out with Selwyn a few times before going back to King’s Landing, once to harass Ron Connington and another time to have drinks with him and Goodwin, that was a great night, he would never forget that night. And then, just like that, his time in Tarth was over, and he had to go back to King’s Landing. He left the island just before a big storm hit, glad for once that he had taken his car as the airport had been shut down, it was merely a coincidence that he bumped into Loras Tyrell. The youngest Tyrell sibling was strolling in the middle of the town’s square, a small carry on bag behind him and that Tyrell sneer evident on his face, he was quite surprised when Jaime pulled over and called his name, and even more surprised when Jaime asked if he maybe wanted a lift to King’s Landing. Anything to get out of this forsaken and humid island, the boy had said as he got inside the car.

The ride back had been much more interested than he expected, Loras Tyrell filled every silent moment with either whining or conversation. The flowery boy complained of the humid weather and his curly hair, of the sea salt in the air drying his skin, of the way the hotel hadn’t been able to accommodate his needs of fresh mangoes when they weren’t in season. And then, he had gone on about being sent by his grandmother to visit some clients or so; he never mentioned his sister, or Willas, or anyone else, and after almost an hour, he finally asked what on earth was Jaime Lannister doing in such a small town. Jaime had smiled and said he was visiting his girlfriend, the surprised look on Loras Tyrell’s face when he found that it was Brienne who he had been visiting was delightful.

“Well, she finally got herself a handsome man then,” the kid mumbled and that spiked Jaime’s interest.

“What do you mean?”, Jaime asked

“Oh, so she never told you about that crush she had on Renly?”

Jaime shouldn’t have laughed, he really shouldn’t have, but how could he not, when he was just finding out that Brienne had harbored a deep crush on a gay man. The poor wench had been really unlucky in the love department, well, that was until she decided to sit in his damned table… The seven, the old gods, the red lord and the drowned god, may all gods bless that stupid day.

* * *

She wasn’t wearing a dress this time, she was wearing pants that somehow managed to make her long legs look endless; he liked her in a dress, he liked her in pants, he preferred her out of any of them. She was wearing some sort of cape, and he knew it was to hide her collarbone and the angry red lines that were her new scars, he wondered if she was hot under those layers but then her eyes caught his, and he didn’t care about the weather anymore. There they were, almost one and a half years later, on the top of the Targaryen hotel for the official launch of her last Oathkeeper book, had all of that really happened in such a short time? She smiled at him, a smile that reached her blue eyes, yes, it had all happened in such a short time.

He extended his hand to her like he had done that first time, only that this time instead of twirling her around, he pulled her close to him and kissed her fiercely, a wave of flashes instantly going off at the sight of the public display of affection. The kiss lasted only a few seconds, Brienne immediately pushing him softly but smiling at him, immediately, his hand went to his pocket.

“Final launch, had to give them something juicy to keep you relevant, you know?”, he joked and smiled because he knew that this time she would get his sarcastic sense of humor.

“Again insulting and flattering me at the same time,” she retorted. 

“I told you, it’s a talent.”

A few minutes later, Sansa Stark came and whisked Brienne away, leaving him in the company of a very uncomfortable looking Sandor Clegane, and then they were both ushered to their seats in the first row, the perks of dating the author and the editor. They sat and looked around, the small section of the roof slowly filling up with some known and other unknown faces. Jaime spotted and waved at Sam Tarly, he followed Clegane’s death glare to where Petyr Baelish stood, was surprised to find Tywin also taking a seat a row or two behind him and then went on to look straight ahead as Sansa Stark officially welcomed everybody to the party.

Sitting in a crowded room, listening to Brienne read an excerpt of the first chapter of her book, Jaime wondered if maybe he should swallow his pride and have her read the entire book out loud to him. He liked listening to her voice, he loved the passion that was evidently there, the way she voiced each character slightly different, how she conveyed the emotions of their thoughts. Was that how the book sounded in her mind? Were those the words and actions she heard and imagined before writing them on a piece of paper or the computer? If so, he wanted to be a part of that world, he wanted to hear from her everything that went on. If he were honest, he would listen to her read the grocery list if only it meant hearing the excitement in her voice that he heard right then. It was over too soon, in his opinion, he made a mental note to re-read the first part of the book whenever he had time, Brienne had sent him an advance copy, but he felt like he hadn’t paid the attention the story demanded. He saw how she went behind a table and took a marker out, he didn’t know there would be a signing, smiling, he went to the table where the guests were encouraged to leave a donation to the Stark foundation and get a book.

“Father,” Jaime said as he found Tywin dropping a handful of golden dragons on the elegant wood box and picking up a copy of a book, with the amount deposited, Tywin would have been able to buy ten books at a regular store. “I didn’t know you liked Brienne’s books.”

“It would be disrespectful not to get a copy when I was invited to the launch,” Tywin explained.

Jaime picked up a copy himself and deposited some money, his advanced copy was already signed and dedicated, but he wanted to see how Brienne would react to see him stand in line with the other people, he might even tease her a bit and ask for a picture. Stepping aside so other guests could get access to the table, he walked next to his father towards the line and wondered if maybe the great Tywin was going to cue for something. Before he could even ask, Arya Stark materialized from nowhere and offered his old man a drink. Jaime saw them walk away and wondered, not for the first time, how that friendship had formed. Arya Stark was not your regular girl, she was friends with the Hound and Tywin Lannister, he had heard that the girl had a boyfriend that was an average Joe and that her company was slightly strange. His life seemed to be filled with unusual ladies; Brienne, Arya, Sansa… even his own sister was an unusual female. Before he could explore the issue further, a chubby lad stood next to him, Samwell Tarly with that ever-present grin on his face, the lad started talking before Jaime had the chance to greet him; well, at least the cue would be less boring now.

The photographers quickly located him in the line, and he had a good laugh when he pretended to be just a regular fan asking for a picture, they posed awkwardly together as she would have with any other guest, they both laughed at it. He squeezed her shoulder as he left the line, tucked the book under his arm and went to find a place where to sit and blend with the crowd, once more, his hand went to his pocket; finding an open spot, Jaime took a seat and let a sigh out. He could see the entire room from where he sat, the now empty chairs, the bar, the open spaces where guests gathered to talk, and most importantly, her.

He thought of the many lessons other people had tried to teach her, of the lies they had wanted to make her believe, and how she had bought some of them. She had believed it when Margaery Tyrell shamed her because of her looks, had believed that she was ugly and strange and that she would be confined to live a lonely life. Yet, Brienne was surrounded by friends like the Starks, Sam, even Tyrion would be considered a friend. Ronnet Connington had tried to use her, he had tried to secure his life and position through her, making her cautious of men that enjoyed her company, Hyle Hunt had somewhat fed that idea with his stupid stunt, but while Hunt had apologized and tried to make up for his shortcomings, the damage had been done. As painful as it was for him to admit it, Tormund fucking Giantsbane had been the first man to break that idea for her, even if he couldn’t appreciate Brienne for who she really was, though Jaime was kind of thankful for that. There had also been her dearest septa, trying to teach her that girls should be dainty and submissive, that girls were meant to be soft and timid, shy and airheaded. It was funny that Brienne had grown up to be the exact opposite of that and that those qualities that according to her septa were so unlovable were what he liked the most about her. And finally, there was Vargo Hoat, who had been a dick and abusive, who had struck some sort of fear into her from figures who could abuse their authority. He couldn’t do anything about men like Vargo Hoat, only show her that she no longer had to stand before them alone, show her that he would always be there to back her up.

* * *

"Where are we going?” Brienne asked as he opened the door to the car, surprise in her voice at the sight of a driver.

“It’s a surprise, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out fast enough,” he said when he climbed in the car.

_Podrick fucking Payne_ , he thought as the car pulled in front of Roaring Coffee and noticed the fairy lights on the window, _leave it to that kid to go above and beyond, I am certainly not paying him enough._

“Want to share a cup of coffee?”, he asked Brienne when the car stopped, her smile almost as bright as the little lights on the window.

If it had been any other person who Brienne threw her arms around so casually and carefree, he would have been by her side and with a clenched fist in a matter of seconds, but that was Podrick Payne right there, the boy who had puppy dog eyes and a full face. Brienne seemed to forget all about the coffee shop being open just for the two of them as she smiled at Pod and asked how he was, if he had completed his internship and was working, the boy was trying to give her short answers, subtly trying to disengage from the conversation but not getting any results. Jaime smiled at him, letting Pod know that everything was okay, a few minutes later, Brienne casually said how she needed to get his address so that she could send him a copy of her book if he already didn’t have one, and that was when he stepped in and offered the copy he had picked up at the event.

“I figured you’d like to get one for him,” Jaime said as he offered the book and reached for a pen so that she could scribble a dedication if she wanted.

“Thank you Mrs. Tarth,” Pod said blushing, “Mr. Lannister, your usual?”

Jaime had to admit that he was nervous, extremely nervous really, and he hoped that Brienne would be too happy and distracted to notice, judging by her smile when Pod brought his drink and her chamomile tea, he knew she hadn’t noticed. Maybe he should have asked for a chamomile tea as well, that was supposed to ease the nerves, right? He thanked Pod and left his cup untouched in the table, his hand went to his pocket once more, it wasn’t time yet. 

“Hey,” he said once Pod was out of hearing range. 

“Hey yourself,” Brienne responded with a smile and his heart skipped a beat, “What is this all about?”

“We haven’t done this in a while,” he said, his confidence slowly coming back, “I wanted to catch up with you.”

“Well, what’s new then, Lannister?”, she asked sipping her cup, and he noticed how she had let the cape fall open, exposing her neck, her scars and the pendant he had gifted her not that long ago.

“Same old, work, meetings, bills, trying to convince my girlfriend that I can work remotely and travel the world with her.”

“Jaime…”

“I’m kidding, I’m not thrilled at the idea, but I won’t keep you from it.”

She had shared her plans on a brief visit to King’s Landing, almost a month ago, that day he had received both good and not so good news. The good news what that she’d be coming back to King’s Landing, her arrival date coincided perfectly with the launch of the final book, the bad news was that she’d be staying for a few months and then going up North for a little while. When he had left Tarth, she had been struck with the idea of writing a prequel for Oathkeeper, a book that would give the readers more information on Cap’s life and how she ended up being who she was. She had started writing a few drafts, inspired by the retelling of her childhood memories and the familiar surroundings that led her to write Oathkeeper in the first place, then she had sent a preview to the Starks, and they had given her the green light. Everything was confidential for now, not wanting to build any expectations on something she was not too sure she would pursue, not wanting to steal the spotlight from the movie either. But she would be traveling to Winterfell for a few months to finish the book and then she would decide what to do with it.

He had taken the news much better than she expected, he could tell, he had even surprised himself by not bursting in his reaction. They had talked about it, he had asked her to stay with him during her time in King’s Landing, there was no need to rent an apartment or live with Sansa Stark, if she was going to leave him for a few months again, then he wanted to spend every minute of his free time with her. She agreed quite easily, and then she told him that she’d be traveling back to the capital a few times while she stayed in the North, she had foreseen staying less than two months, and he was glad that this time they wouldn’t have to be apart for any longer.

“This is nice,” she said as she ran her finger along the rim of her cup, the mumbled words were a clear filler in their conversation. 

“I actually have something to tell you…”, he said and took a deep breath, his hand going to his pocket for the thousandth time of the night.

Her eyes grew wide when she saw the little velvet box sitting on the table, his breath caught a little, but that was the exact reaction he had expected. Jaime noticed how Brienne’s eyes went from the box to his face, she was blushing, well, more like there were red blotches on her face, the truest signal that her heart was racing probably as hard as his was. Swallowing hard, he opened the box to reveal a ring that was much more simple than anyone, even her, might expect from him. It wasn’t a huge diamond, it wasn’t encrusted in yellow gold or surrounded by tiny little diamonds either, it wasn’t like the ring Cersei had picked from their mother’s jewelry box. It was a plain band of white gold, a simple diamond with a classic cut stood out. It was simple and yet beautiful ring; a ring that a month ago he didn’t even know existed.

“Jaime…”

“Wait, please,” he asked and leaned forward, “I want to tell you something first.”

Jaime took Brienne’s hand in his, unconsciously rubbing his thumb over her ring finger, he looked down at her hand and wondered if the ring would fit, he told himself that it didn’t matter right then.

“I’m not asking you to say anything, I’m not proposing, not yet…”, he explained, and he saw her shoulders relax a little, he smiled at her reassuringly, and she smiled back making his heart calm down. “We’ve been together for almost two years now, we’ve had our ups and downs, we have fought and loved and hated each other, but through it all, we have managed to stay together. We’re not ready yet, but I want you to know, I need you to know, that at the end of the road I just know that it’s you and me. So go ahead and work on your book up North, and then come back to me, after a while, you might think you need to go west to draw inspiration or whatever but then come back to me. What I’m trying to say, I guess, is that I always want you to come back to me and that every single time I will be there, waiting for you to come home.”

Brienne slipped one of her hands away from his grasp and cupped his cheek, her thumb lovingly brushing his cheek, and his eyes went straight to hers. She was smiling softly at him, and then, as slowly as he had moved when he first kissed her in his car, she placed a light kiss on his lips. Her lips were moist now, not chapped as when he had first kissed her, and she was more in control of the situation, much more secure of herself. But that kiss was confusing to him because it could have so many meanings, and he was a man who, when assessing risks, always put himself in the worst-case scenario. She broke away a few seconds later and let a sigh out, his pulse started rushing again.

“Thank you,” she said, and he was sure his face showed all the confusion he was feeling, “I’m not ready for a proposal yet, but whatever it was that you meant by this, I love it. I love you, you know? And I love the idea of one day marrying you and just growing old with you. And I love that you picked out this place, and this beautiful ring and that you’re giving me time to get used to the idea, I’m pretty sure you know that I will say yes when you ask, but thank you for not springing this out on me. 

He stole a kiss from her, ironically his eyes were the ones that got slightly clouded with unshed tears, her blue eyes remaining clear as the summer oceans of her island. Jaime let a chuckle and a sigh out and leaned back against his chair, his free hand picking up Brienne’s cup to sip some of her chamomile tea. A second later, with the warm liquid traveling down his throat, he reached for the box and brought it closer to her.

“Would you like to try it on?”, he asked almost shyly, wondering how he would feel to see her wearing the ring, slightly afraid of getting more tears in his eyes.

“May I?”, She asked, and he saw the glim in her eyes, the almost childish illusion. He wondered if she had dreamed of the day a man would ask her to marry him, if he had ruined it for her of made it better.

“Of course.”

It fit a little tight, but he was sure that it might have been from swollen fingers, maybe on a regular day it would fit just fine. He looked at the ring on her finger and felt a warmth spreading through his body, he took her hand in his and then looked at her.

“You should keep it,” Jaime said, “Please don’t take it off.” 

Brienne’s hand went to the ring, a finger running over the diamond; he saw her taking in the image, saw how she smiled and breathed out quietly and his heart was full.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, her voice so honest, her emotions so real.

“It was my mother’s,” he said, and her head popped up.

“I thought Cersei…”, she said, yes, he had thought that too.

“Well, it’s my mother’s first engagement ring,” he clarified, “My father bought it with the first paycheck he cashed from the family company back when my grandfather was still running it; when the Lannister name wasn’t what it is now. He proposed with that ring, and she said yes, later he went on to make more money and insisted on buying her another ring, the one Cersei has, mother accepted it but kept this one too… said it was special. I didn’t know it existed until recently… It fits you, I think, but I can get you another one if…”

“It’s perfect,” she cut him off softly.

“What do you think will be the weirdest headline once someone spots that little rock on you?”, he joked and successfully made her laugh, making her look prettier in his mind. 

“I believe people will start calling it witchcraft,” she said and finished her tea. 

“I think people will call me cheap,” he said and stretched in his chair, “Maybe we should start collecting the articles,” he added as he stood up and offered his hand.

“It might be something fun to show any future…”, she stopped herself and blushed, he couldn’t help but let a chuckle out.

“Future children, you mean?” He teased, “Tell me Brienne, have you already picked names? Schools? Professions?”

“Shut up,” she said and pushed him lightly.

“But really, have you?”, Jaime asked as he waved goodbye at Pod who was already deeply engaged in the book between his hands. He really did want to know how much of their life together she had imagined, he wanted to share what he had imagined too.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Why can't I just let them be happy?


End file.
